Money Changes Everything
by CallGirlFan
Summary: It's been two months since Hannah broke up with Ben and he won't talk to her. Hannah is devastated, but life has to go on. And so, she continues her life as London's hottest escort. The clients are crazier, the sex is hotter, and the stakes are higher.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Belle**

There is no such thing as slowing down in the life of a whore. No such thing as stopping to smell the flowers. Cos if you do, you'll be out of business in the blink of an eye. And we wouldn't want that, would we? Even though my heart was broken and I wanted nothing more than to make things okay, my life had to go on.

It was a typical Tuesday afternoon. I was with a client, who had booked me for two hours at £300 an hour. He was about forty, with a muscular physique, dark hair, and penetrating blue eyes. Sounds perfect, right? Wrong. Normally I love it when clients book me for extended periodsof time, but not this client. I couldn't wait to get rid of him.

I was on top, moving my hips furiously. Blowing a stray strand of hair out of my eye, I glanced over at the clock on my bedside stand. Forty-five minutes. We'd been shagging for forty-five minutes. And he still hadn't cum. Shit. "Oh, yeah," I gasped, hoping that by encouraging him that I could speed things up a bit.

"Talk dirty," the client commanded, biting his lip hard enough the turn the skin white.

"Fuck me, big boy," I replied huskily, moaning loudly.

"Yeah!"

"Oh, you're so big!" I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that one. The client was actually rather tragically endowed. No wonder he had to resort to fucking prostitutes to get off.

"I'm close!" Thank God!

With a loud groan, the client finally climaxed. Panting, I dropped down onto the pillow next to him. "One down," I muttered under my breath. One more hour…

"What was that?" he asked, turning to face me.

"Nothing."

"That was fucking amazing!" The client grinned, satisfied.

"Sure was." I laughed nervously.

"Did you cum?"

"What?"

"Did you cum?" he repeated, staring into my eyes.

"Of course," I lied, patting his hand assuredly. I had been so distracted that I hadn't been able to orgasm. But telling the client that wasn't exactly good protocol.

The client sat up and started to get his clothes on. "Well, I hate to fuck and run, but I've got to get back to work."

"But we've still got another hour," I reminded him.

"That was just in case I couldn't cum in an hour."

"Oh. Well, let me give you back some of the money…"

"No, keep it. Consider it a tip. For a job well done."

"Thank you." Now I felt guilty for wanting to be rid of him.

" I really should go. My wife usually calls around 4 to see what I want for dinner. If I'm not there, she'll get suspicious," he explained.

"You're married." It wasn't exactly shocking. A lot of my clients are married. Sometimes their wives won't have sex with them, or they have a fetish that they're too embarrassed of to fulfill with anyone except a prostitute. Some just like to feel special by having sex with women half their age. In this business nothing shocks me anymore. Well, almost nothing.

"Yeah, fifteen years."

"Lovely."

"I know what you're thinking: If I'm married, why did I just pay you for sex."

"Actually, I wasn't. It's none of my business."

"To be honest, my wife and I haven't had sex in two years," he continued.

"Two years!" My mouth dropped open. That was a long time to go without sex. No wonder he'd resorted to paying for it. Poor guy.

"Exactly." He reached down and stroked my cheek tenderly. "Thank you, Belle."

"The pleasure was all mine." I smiled fondly as I heard his soft footsteps on the stairs.

* * *

**Hannah**

After I heard the door click shutbehind him, I threw on a robe and went downstairs, locking the door. What to do with the extra hour? Normally, I would've called my best mate, Ben, but I'd fucked it all up and he wasn't speaking to me. It had been two months now, and not one returned phone call. But I'm not going to give up. He means too much to me to not have him a part of my life.

Of course, I still have to sort out the Harry issue. I'd told him that I no longer wanted to see him, but he keeps showing up on the street, refusing to go away. If I didn't have feelings for him, I'd get a restraining order against him. But I couldn't do that. For some reason, a part of me was drawn to him. I hope that we can just be good friends. That had been my intention all along, but somehow it had all gone to shit.

My finger hovered over Ben's name on my contact's list. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the call button and waited for the line to go through. The first few rings seemed to go on forever. Ben always picked up by the fourth ring, no matter what. Heart beating with anticipation, I waited. The third ring. The fourth. And then Ben's voicemail. "Hi, it's Ben. Leave me a message."

After the beep, I cleared my throat loudly. "Hi, Ben, it's…Hannah. I'm just calling to see if you're all right. I miss you." A wave of sadness washed over me. He wasn't going to pick up and he wouldn't return my call. How was I going to fix things with him? The only reason I'd broken up with him was because I knew that he had had enough of the shit my job entails. And as much as I love Ben, I love my job, too. And in the end, I'd stayed true to myself.

Hanging up, I sighed. _I knew I never should have gotten involved with him again, _I chided myself. _I knew it would only end badly and it would ruin everything we had. Now we can't even be friends._ My eyes settled on the picture of Ben and I – arms around eachother, smiling happily into the camera – on the mantle above my fireplace. _Fuck it. If he won't return my calls, I'll just stop by the bar and see him. He can't avoid me, then._

* * *

An hour later, freshly showered and made-up, I walked into the bar, looking for Ben. He'd worked there for about four years now and enjoyed bartending almost as much as I enjoy escorting. My eyes scanned the room, looking for the familiar face that I knew would make me feel better. If I could just see Ben, I knew that I could make things right again. I had to. I needed him in my life.

The sound of my heels on the wooden floor caused Ben to look up from his crouch behind the bar. As he registered me, his face changed from one of interest to one of anger and betrayal. My heart shattered and my mind went back to our last night together. When I'd met him at our spot on the embankment. I'd told him that he deserved better than me. The sight of him standing there, tears in his eyes had killed me. Once again, I felt that the reason that all of my relationships, whether they be with my friends, family, or lovers, were all fucked up was because of me.

"Hi," I said lamely, setting my bag down on the bartop.

"Hi." Ben couldn't even meet my gaze. His cheeks flushed red with anger and he started to turn away.

"Wait!" I called, putting a hand out, willing him to give me a chance.

"What do you want, Hannah?" Ben asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I want to know that you're all right." I felt the hot sting of tears.

"I'm fine, okay? So you can go back to your life now." Ben turned away again.

Lips quivering, I got up and followed him. "So, that's it?" I demanded, clutching at his arm, my eyes pleading.

"Yeah." He shook my hand off.

"I've apologized a million times, Ben," I sobbed, the tears spilling down my cheeks.

"I don't care how many times you apologize, Han. You did this. You broke my heart and betrayed me."

"I know and I'm so sorry for that. But can't you see that I was doing it for you? So, you could be with someone who can give themselves wholly to you?"

"I want you, Hannah!" Ben exclaimed, eyes wide. "I don't want anyone else."

"Can't we just be friends?"

"No, we can't. I don't want to be friends with you anymore, Han. You broke my heart. And I can't forgive you for that."

"Ben…" My voice came out as a choked whisper.

Without another word, Ben stormed out the bar, the door slamming shut behind him. I stood there for a moment, mouth wide and tears spilling down my cheeks. I'd lost the best thing in my life and there was nothing I could do to get him back. He hated me. And he wasn't the only one. I hated myself.

* * *

The next morning, I stepped out to get a coffee when I felt a familiar presence behind me and manly set of arms wrapped around me. "Good morning," Harry said, smiling brightly.  
"Morning." I turned to face him and was once again taken away by his good looks. He'd shaved away his stubble and looked even more handsome. _No! _I ordered myself. _No_!_You are not going to have sex with him again. You're just friends now. Being with Harry will hurt Ben. And I can't do that again._

"Can you take your hands off me, please?" I asked, my voice not quite as angry as I wanted it to be.

"Sorry." Harry grinned. "I couldn't resist." He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine.

"Stop," I whispered, willing the shiver of delight that shook my body to cease. Harry was not going to help salvage my friendship with Ben.

"Have it your way." He held his hands up, showing them to me. "So, how about you and I go out and grab some lunch?" he asked.

"I can't, I've got…stuff to do," I lied, nervously fiddling with the stap of my handbag.

"What kind of stuff?" Harry knew that I was lying. He was a detective. He knew all the signs.

"I've got a lot of work to do."

"Any clients today?"

"No, but I've got to get home and do my beauty regimen. I can't fall behind."

"Come on, Belle." As I stepped away, Harry caught my hand. "It's just a friendly lunch. I promise to behave myself."

I stared into his brown eyes. I was a bit hungry, and as long as it was a friendly lunch…"Fine, but if you try to pull something, I'm leaving. Got it?"

"Got it."

We crossed town to a little bistro that I'd often seen while out shopping but had never been to. Harry said they had the best fish and chips in town. I highly doubted that. Our waiter led us through the restaurant to a booth facing the street. Outside, I could see the dozens of people going about their daily lives and wondered if they had the same problems that I did. If their lives were as fucked up as mine. Not for the first time, I wished that I could be more like them.

"What can I get you?" the waiter asked, smiling at me.

"I will have the…" My eyes quickly scanned menu. "Grilled chicken sandwich with the side of chips. And water to drink, please."

"Great." He wrote it down. "And you, sir?" The waiter turned to Harry, pencil raised over his pad.

"The spaghetti, please."

"Okay." He collected the menus. "Your food will be ready shortly."

"Thank you," I said.

After the waiter was out of earshot, Harry leaned forward. "So, how was work?" he asked. I was so lucky to have a man in life that knew the truth about what I do. That used to be Ben, but few men could handle the fact that their girlfriend has sex with other men for money. In the end, it tore him apart. "Belle?" Harry pressed, shaking me from my reverie.

"Awful!" I confessed.

"What did he want?"

"Just sex."

"Then why was it so awful?" Harry eyed me curiously.

I looked around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. Leaning forward slightly, I said, "He wouldn't cum."

"Seriously?" Harry frowned.

"Seriously."

"You poor girl." He snickered. "So, what did you do?"

"What could I do? I just had to keep going."

"And how did that go for you?"

"Eventually, he came. After an hour."

"Holy shit!"

"Tell me about it!"

"Nice one, mate." Harry gave me a high five across the table.

"Shut up."

"Did you make you give back some of the money?"

"No, he let me keep it. As a tip."

"You're a very lucky girl."

"I know."

Harry suddenly grew serious. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" he asked.

"I don't know. Why?" Did Harry have a romantic evening planned? Hopefully he wasn't about to spoil the one friendship I had left.

"I was thinking dinner at mine. Around eight?"

"Harry…." I began, trepidation setting in.

"Just a friendly, platonic dinner. No romance, no sex."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He smiled, eyes twinkling and I felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I should be running in the opposite direction, but something kept me firmly planted where I was.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my diary. I had a pretty busy week ahead of me but it appeared that I had tomorrow night off. "Unfortunately, it seems I'm free tomorrow night," I said, deadpan.

"And how is that unfortunate?"

"Because I have to take you up on your offer," I teased.

"Very funny. So it's a date?"

"It's a date." I started to smile, but caught myself. "Well, not a _date_ date, but you know what I mean."

The sound of my mobile ringing brought me back to my side of the table. I made it a habit to always pick up my work phone. If a client wanted to book me and I didn't respond right away, chances are that I'd lose the business. And that was never good. "I need to get this," I murmured, fishing the phone out of my bag.

"Go ahead," Harry waved his hand.

"It's work." Finding the phone at last, I answered it. "Hello?"

"Do you still do girls?" Wow, Stephanie. Hello to you, too.

"We've been over this, Stephanie." I rolled my eyes. The last time we'd had this conversation I'd ended up working with another call girl, Naomi. We'd quickly become friends, but you can't always trust your friends. Especially when they were in the escort business. Naomi ended up stealing my favorite regular client, Ashok, from me. Luckily he'd come back. I hadn't seen him lately, but he was on holiday with his wife. Hopefully, he'd be back soon.

"This is entirely different," Stephanie insisted, reading my mind.. "Naomi was your partner."

"And what? This woman wants to pay me to have sex with her?" I asked sarcastically.

"Precisely."

"I don't know, Stephanie…." I'd never had sex with a woman for money before. Some how it seemed a little…wrong.

"£2,000."

"What time?" What? £,2000 is a lot of money. The recession's finally hit London, remember? For two thousand pounds, I could deal with wrong.

"Seven."

"I can't do seven. I've got dinner plans with a friend at eight, so…"

"Fine. Six."

"Perfect." I grinned. "In or out?" I hoped it was an in-call. I didn't want to have to run home and rush to get ready for my dinner with Harry. Then again, maybe that would give me an excuse to not show up…

"In."

I opened up my diary again and wrote down the information as I repeated it. "Tomorrow at mine. Six o'clock."

"Enjoy."

"Thanks."

I hung up and put the phone back in my purse. Stephanie had once been my madam, but about two years ago, I'd gone freelance. We still stayed in contact, however. She called me with job offers frequently and when she'd been arrested for money laundering a few months back, she'd entrusted me with her agency, Discreet Elite, and her daughter, Poppy. Thankfully, Poppy had gone back to university. I couldn't help but feel a slight hatred toward the girl. She'd intentionally caused problems between Ben and I. _Forget her, _I thought. Looking up through my lashes, I saw Harry watching me intently. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing." Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Then, what are you looking at me like that for?"

"Your client is a woman."

"So?" Typical bloke. He was getting turned on by the idea of two women having sex.

"Well that's a first, right?"

"First female client," I confirmed.

"Do you need a male partner?"

"Don't even think about it," I answered. No way was I going to bring Harry into this. I playfully smacked his arm.

"Ow!" He rubbed the sore spot. "What?"

"You know what."

"All right." He laughed. "So you're going to cheat on me with another woman. That's a first."

"We're not dating, so it's not cheating," I reminded him. Ben would have been all right with it.

"No," Harry agreed simply.

"Are you jealous?"

"I just wish I could watch."

"Pervert!"

We broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

After lunch, I decided to go shopping. If I'm going to do something new, I'm going to need a new wardrobe. New knickers. Something hot. Something sexy. Something like…

My hands froze on a pair of crotch less knickers. "Wow," I murmured. I spread the gap and shook my head. Way too much for the job. But maybe for Harry… _Stop!_  
It's not that I'm uncomfortable with girl-on-girl action. I quite like it. But this is entirely new to me. And nothing's been knew to me for ages. Maybe that's why this one's unnerving me. Maybe I'm losing my professional edge.  
I heard the door open and close and then the clack of heels on the wooden floor. "Hey, babes," Bambi said, rushing over.

"Hey, Bambi!" I gave her a quick hug. Sure, she'd been a trial to my patience when we'd first met, but eventually she'd grown on me. She's one of the few people that I can trust with my secret. After all who is she to judge? She's an escort, too.

"Sorry I'm late," Bambi apologized, hiking her bag up onto her shoulder.

"It's all right. I was just looking."

"Byron didn't want to let me out of bed." Last year, Bambi fell in love with one her clients. An eccentric aristocrat named Byron. They'd gotten married despite the fact that Bambi sleeps with other men for money. I hadn't seen much of them since the wedding, me being busy with work and Bambi being busy with work and Byron. Maybe one day soon we'd be able to get together for dinner or something. The two whores and the aristocrat.

"You two are still enjoying your marital bliss, I see." I couldn't help but smile. Seeing Bambi so happy made the joy infectious.

"Oh, yeah." Bambi chuckled. "So, how've you been? I haven't talked to you in ages!"

"Good, yeah. And you?"

"Great. Byron and I are looking for a new house."

"In town?"

"Doesn't matter." She shrugged.

"But what about your clients?"

Bambi chewed her lip for a second. "I'm thinking of giving it up."

"Oh." That caught me completely off guard. Bambi loves her job. Almost as much I do. I never thought she'd retire. Maybe love is enough. For some people.

"We're talking about starting a family."

"A family. That's, wow….congratulations." I hugged her again. I hate when people tell you that they're pregnant or planning on getting pregnant. I mean, what are you supposed to say? 'Congratulations you're bringing another brat into the world?' Nah, I don't think that would go over too well.

"Ta." Bambi squeezed my hand. "What about you and Ben?"

"Ben and I…broke up," I confessed, diverting my gaze to a black lacy bra.

"Oh, Belle, I'm sorry…" Bambi reached out a comforting hand.

"Don't be. It had to done. The inevitable happened. I had to choose between him and my job. And I chose escorting."

"Seriously? It's so obvious the bloke is crazy about you. And it was plain that you were well into him, too."

"I couldn't expect him to change for me. I certainly wasn't willing to change for him. I love escorting and this way, he has a chance at a proper life with some woman who works a real job and can give him children and monogamy."

"Wow. You must really love him," Bambi pushed.

"I do. But I've realized that in our line of work, it's nearly impossible to sustain a relationship," I admitted, fingering a pair of black silk knickers. "These are nice." I kept them in my hand.

"What about Byron and I?"

"You're a rare exception."

"Oh." Bambi's mouth slammed shut.

"And you're planning on packing it in to start a family," I reminded her gently.

"I guess I've just grown bored with the whole thing. I mean, having to wax your body every time you sprout a hair; having to stuff sponge up your twat when you're on your period… Don't you ever get tired of it all?"

"Sometimes" I frowned. I'd never given much thought to my future. I mean, I love escorting. It brings in a fair amount of money and it's steady work. That's all the future I need. "Maybe one day…"

"I mean, you can't escort forever." The words stung like a slap on the face. I'd never considered giving it up. Well, not since Alex. And we all know how that worked out.

"I guess not."

"No offense, babes, but you're not getting any younger," Bambi continued.

"Thanks, Bambi!" I said with mock offense.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah." I hated to admit it, but she was right. One day I wouldn't be able to escort anymore. Men wouldn't pay for a saggy, middle-aged whore.

"And escorting is a competitive business. No one can stay young and beautiful forever." How depressing.

"I could always go back to being a courtesan," I mused.

"That sounds nice."

"No, not really."

"Oh." Bambi started to thumb through the nearest bra rack. "So, what are we doing here anyway?" she asked.

"I need a new pair of knickers. Maybe even a new bra," I answered, eying a bra that struck my fancy.

"New client?" Bambi asked, knowing how it goes.

"New client."

"What's he like?"

"She," I corrected, biting my lip.

"Bloody hell!" Bambi exclaimed.

All the heads in the store turned in our direction. Thanks a lot. "Christ, Bambi," I hissed, face flushing scarlet with embarrassment.

"Sorry. I just didn't know you were into that. I mean, I know you've had female partners before, but this is different."

"I've had sex with women before, back at university. Of course, I never got paid for it."

"Well, I doubt that it'll be any different from having sex with a man for money," Bambi said, putting a supportive hand on my shoulder. She could sense my unease. "At least you'll know what feels good instead of just guessing."

"Yeah, you're right. It's just unexpected I guess."

"Do you need a partner or something? Cos I'd be happy to help out if…"

"No, thanks. It's a one woman job." I appreciated Bambi's offer, but the client had booked me. Alone. If I brought someone else into the mix it would throw off the dynamic.

"Okay." Bambi shrugged. She picked up a black corset. "Do you think Byron would like this?" she asked.

I looked at it. Any man would love it. "He'd be crazy not to."

"I'll take it, then."

We made our way to the counter. I'd found a new pair of knickers and a new bra. Maybe they'd help me with plight tomorrow.

* * *

The next day, I was getting ready for the client. It was 5:30. Less than half an hour until she arrived. I finished applying a new layer of black nail polish and blew to dry it. Looking in the mirror, I had to admit that I looked good with my long, straight blonde hair and black dress. "You can do this," I told myself, breathing in and out a few times to steady myself.

Why am I so nervous about this? I mean, it's not like this is the first time I've fucked a woman. And when I have, I'd always gotten good feedback. What makes this one so much different from the others?

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Shit, the client's here. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I rushed down the stairs and peeked through the glass. The woman on other side was rather nice looking, with shoulder-length chestnut brown hair. I've had worse clients. "Hi," I said, pulling the door open.

"Hi," the woman replied, her nervousness apparent in her squeaky voice. She had an Irish accent.

"Come on in," I said, holding the door open for her.

"Thanks."

I stepped aside to let her in, smelling the sweet scent of watermelon as she passed by. Well, here we are. No going back now. My heart started to race.

* * *

**Belle**

I closed the door behind the woman, pasting a sexy smile on my face. "I'm Belle," I said, holding out a hand.

"Siobhan." When she shook my hand, her fingers were moist with discomfort. Obviously, it was her first time with an escort.

"How about we get you in a nice, hot shower?" I suggested, taking her coat.

"That sounds lovely, thanks." Siobhan stood there for a minute before she remembered the circumstances. "Oh, here." She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope of cash.

"I'll just take that, thanks," I said, accepting the envelope. "The shower's just up the stairs and down the hall. It's the first door on the left.

"Okay." Slowly, Siobhan made her way up the stairs.

When I was sure that she was gone, I slipped the envelope into the cutlery drawer and followed her up. I could hear the shower running. I made my way down the hall and went into my bedroom, leaving the door wide open so that Siobhan would know which one it was.

Pressed for time, I slipped out of my black dress and checked my reflection. My lacy black bra and knickers were perfection. Siobhan would be wet before I even laid a hand on her. I quickly sprayed some men's deodorant on and crossed the room to sit on the bed. I leaned back, resting on my arms. My heart rate had dropped a little as I heard the shower shut off and the sound of Siobhan's soft footsteps. _I can do this._

Siobhan nervously crossed the threshold into my room, clutching her towel to her tightly. "Come here," I said, my voice soft. I patted the spot next to me on the bed. Eyes downcast, Siobhan walked over to me and sat down, looking everywhere but at me. "Is everything okay?" I asked, rubbing her shoulder softly.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit…nervous is all," she confessed.

"Don't be. I'll take good care of you."

Without another word, I gently eased her down onto the bed, pulling the wet towel from around her and dropping it onto the floor. My eyes darted to her bare chest. She had nice tits and a flat, muscular stomach. _She must work out. _I placed a hand behind her head and leaned down, pressing my lips against hers. Her lips had faint cherry taste to them. _Katy Perry wasn't joking. _

After a minute or so of this, Siobhan loosened up and the kissing became more passionate. I reached down and cupped a breast in my hand, feeling the erect nipple. She was definitely aroused. Continuing to kiss her, I started to play with her nipples; pinching them and feeling them get even harder.

Siobhan broke the kiss, her eyes heavy with lust. _Enough foreplay, then. _Taking the hint, I kissed a trail down her chin and neck, stopping to glide my tongue over her nipples. Siobhan gasped quietly and started to stroke my hair. I continued to tease her, waiting until she was gasping for air before I continued down.

I worked my way down her stomach and stopped at her knickers. I glanced up and caught her pleading eyes. Grinning slightly, I helped her out of her underwear and buried myself in her groin. Her back arched and I reached out, snagging her legs in my grip to steady her. Apparently she wasn't all that used to the wonders of oral sex.

I lapped at her labia, slowly moving to her clitoris. I could tell from her pleasurable moaning that I hadn't lost my touch. It had been awhile since I'd performed oral on a woman that I wasn't sure that I still had it in me. I guess being a whore has its advantages.

Siobhan came with a loud groan, her whole body quaking. I raised my head, looking up at the sudden peace that alighted her face. No matter what people said about my profession, it could not be denied that in a way, what I do is a public service. As a client once said, I make people feel better. And Siobhan was no different. She was so desperate for an orgasm that she had resorted to paying a prostitute. For whatever reason, she couldn't get what she wanted anywhere else.

I gave her a few minutes to recover before I set to work on my final task. When I saw that her breathing had slowed down, I grabbed my favorite vibe and placed it against her clit, flipping the on switch. Immediately, Siobhan started squirming with pleasure again. Her moans turned into euphoric screams, her body writhing. _Thank God I don't live in the flat anymore, _I thought, eyes wide. I'd never had client scream that loud before.

Siobhan's screams grew louder and louder until with a final ear-shattering shout, she fell back against the pillows, spent. I switched the vibrator off and moved up to lie down next to her, running a hand playfully up and down her stomach. "Are you feeling okay?" I asked.

"For the first time in a long time, I feel more than okay," Siobhan confessed, smiling. "I feel…magnificent."

"I'm glad." I couldn't help but grin myself. It felt good to know that I had helped someone.

"And it's all thanks to you, Belle."

"Nah, I didn't really do anything," I insisted humbly.

"You did everything. You were amazing." She leaned over and pressed her lips against mine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We lay in silence for a few minutes. My mind raced. I was curious about the truth behind Siobhan's position. Did she have no one in her life to see to her needs? Had she been in a relationship with someone she'd cared for deeply, but ended up burned when her lover had found someone else? Had her lover died? The possibilities were limitless.

Finally, I cleared my throat, resting my head in my hand. "Can I ask you a question?" I broached.

"Sure." She clutched the blanket to her, covering up her perfect tits.

"Why did you come to me?"

"You mean, why aren't I getting off with my lover?"

"Sure." I laughed.

"I was in a relationship for a long time with a man that I loved more than words can describe."

"What happened?"

"We were engaged, and I thought we were going to live happily ever after. But in real life, there is no happily ever after." She reached down into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." She lit up and took a drag, inhaling deeply.

"So, he found someone else?"

"You got it." She laughed bitterly. "It broke my heart. I've never felt the same since."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're not the whore who came between us."

I chewed my lip. "So, when did you…realize that you liked having sex with women?"

"Oh." Siobhan laughed. "I've always enjoyed sex with women. At least, in theory. I've never actually done it before. I was too nervous in college to try anything and when I was at university, I got hooked up with this bloke named Sean. And ever since then, I've been with men."

"So, you're a bisexual?"

"No. Yes." She sighed. "I don't know. It's all so confusing."

"Just listen to you heart." I advised. "Even if it's confusing at first, it'll all work out in the end." My words echoed in my mind. Was there still a chance that my actions hadn't destroyed my friendship with Ben forever? Maybe if I listened to myself things would take a turn for the better. I lit up a fag of my own and pondered this.

* * *

**Hannah**

After Siobhan left, I filled up the bathtub with hot water and bubbles and climbed in. The water felt good and I closed my eyes serenely. For the first time in months, I was completely stress free. I didn't think about Ben or Harry. I must have drifted off for a while because when I opened my eyes again, the clock said that I had a little over an hour to get ready or I'd be late for dinner with Harry. "Shit!" I hissed, jumping out and wrapping a towel around myself.

"Fuck!" I ran into the bedroom and tore through my closet, trying to decide on what to wear. My eyes settled on an elegant powder blue gown that I'd bought during my trip to the Maldives. I threw on a bra and knickers and slipped into the dress. Wrapping my hair in a towel, I quickly applied makeup and brushed my teeth. When that was done, I blow dried my hair and curled it, transforming my straight hair into big blonde ringlets.

Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure that I was flawless, I grabbed my bag and ran out the door. As soon as I stepped out onto the street, I spotted a black cab. "Taxi!" I shouted, waving him down. The cab pulled over to the curb and I jumped in.

"Where to?" the driver asked, eying me in the rear-view mirror.

"Uh…" I fished around in my bag for the piece of paper with Harry's address on it. Finding it, I handed it over to the driver.

The drive only took a few minutes and when he driver pulled up to curb outside of Harry's flat, I threw him a wad of cash and got out. My heart was again pounding in my chest and my lips were dry. _Why does he get to me like this? _I wondered as I clacked up to the door. There was a list on the side with a list of all the tenants and a button next to each name. My eyes scanned the list until I came upon the right one. H. Smith I reached forward to press the buzzer, but my hand froze.

Was I making a mistake? If I went through with the dinner, I knew full well that things wouldn't remain friendly. Harry and I would end up sleeping together and I'd be hooked. I'd blow yet another chance at patching things up with Ben. And I couldn't do that. But was I strong enough to stop myself?

Setting my chin determinedly, I lowered my hand and ran back to the taxi.

"Home, please," I said, slamming the door behind me.

"What the hell?" the driver asked, turning around to face me.

"Just take me home!" I barked angrily.

Silently, the driver pulled back into traffic. I felt myself relax and I settled back into the seat. I could make things work with Ben. I had to. I loved him more than anyone in the world. It might take time, but I was willing to wait. And most importantly, I had finally made a step in the right direction.

* * *

**Next Time: **Hannah grudgingly accepts Stephanie's invitation to attend a party at her country house in Poppy's honor. But once again, Poppy's up to no good. Will Hannah finally have enough of Poppy's manipulations? Belle's client is not what she expects. Will she be able to put her personal feelings aside and be the smooth professional she's always prided herself on being?


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously: **Hannah tried unsuccessfully to patch things up with Ben and battled with her urges for Harry.

* * *

Chapter Two

**Hannah**

Sometimes in life, you have to do things you don't want to do. From the time we're little, this has been drilled into our heads. By our mums and dads; grans and granddads; our teachers and headmasters. But it doesn't always sink in. We try to deny it as strongly as we can, but in the end, you just can't fight it. This is exactly how I felt when I received an invitation to Poppy's back-to-school celebration party.

When Stephanie was arrested for money laundering not too long ago, she left me in charge with her spoilt daughter. Sure, Poppy comes across as sweet and innocent, but she is the exact opposite. She's poison. She played no small part in ruining my relationship with Ben. But as much as I dislike her, I can't help but feel a strange affection and sympathy for the girl. It must be quite shocking to learn that your mum is a madam and former escort.

I sat in the back of the cab, staring idly out of the window. There are a million places I'd rather be, but I feel like I owe it to Stephanie, for whatever reason. Although she and I have had our differences in the past, she has always been there for me in a way that no one else could be. In a strange way, she's like my mother. As if having one isn't bad enough.

My mobile chirped and I fished it out of my purse. My eyes immediately went to the screen to see whose name was displayed. HARRY. Shit. It's been over a week since I stood him up for dinner and he's been calling me nonstop. Of course, I haven't retuned any of his calls, but what do you want from me? I'm finally thinking with my head and not my…other body parts.

I waited for the call to go to voicemail. As soon as the pop-up appeared announcing that I had a message, I pressed the call button. There was a moment of silence before Harry's deep baritone voice rang in my ears. "Hey, Belle. Look, I know things were pretty weird last week and you're still upset about that thing with Ben. But I can't stop thinking about you. I know you said you don't want a relationship with me and that's fine. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in it at all." I felt a pang of regret in my heart. Why was it that no matter what I do, I always end up hurting someone? Usually the people I love the most?

I hung up the phone and put it back in my bag. Why couldn't I have just resisted Harry's advances the first time we'd met? If I had, none of this would be happening right now. I'd still be with Ben and everything would be perfect. No, Harry isn't to blame for what happened between Ben and I, and neither is Poppy. It's my fault. I'm a selfish, self-centered bitch who can't give up my job for anyone.

The cab followed the winding road and glancing out through the windscreen, I saw the opulent country manor looming before me. Bloody hell! I don't know exactly how long Stephanie worked as an escort, but it must have been awhile to afford a castle like this. Then again, as a madam and head of her own agency, she probably made enough to live comfortably. Maybe I should consider becoming a madam once my glory days are over.

Once through the wrought-iron gates, the cab pulled to a stop on the lawn. "That'll be thirty-five pounds," the driver announced, turning around the eye me.

"Keep the change," I said, handing him a fifty. I figure, he's driven out all the way. I might as well make it worth his while. Besides, I'm going to need a ride home.

"Thanks."

I shut the door behind me and blinked against the blinding sunlight. I'm not used to being this far outside London. I'm used to the fog and the rain. Not the open air and sunshine. What the fuck am I doing here? A waiter walked by carrying a tray of drinks. I grabbed one and quickly downed the contents. Champagne. Lovely.

Grabbing another flute of champagne, I turned and spotted Stephanie and Poppy. Our eyes met and I forced myself to smile. "Belle," Stephanie called, waving emphatically. I was now her BFF apparently. "How are you, darling?" She put her arms around me and did the double-kiss on my cheeks.

"I'm good. And you?" I ask, awkwardly putting my arms around her. We'd never hugged before. We'd never been that close. I guess prison changes a woman.

"Never better. Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"Yes, it is." My gaze shifted to Poppy. Her brown wavy hair was down around her shoulders and she was wearing a sparkly silver dress. No doubt a present from Stephanie. "Congratulations, Poppy," I said.

"Thanks, Belle." Smiling almost convincingly, she threw her arms around me and patted my back. "I've missed you."

"Me, too. Here, this is for you." I handed her an envelope with a card and fifty pounds inside.

"Oh, you shouldn't have!"

I haven't told Stephanie about all the shit that Poppy got up to while in my care: bringing a random guy home and fucking him –loudly I might add—in the middle of the night, breaking into my room and snooping through my personal files, and worst of all, climbing in bed with Ben so that I'd come home and find them sleeping together, knowing that I'd think they'd had sex.

Stephanie's attention shifted to a woman who looked just like her, only older. "Mum," she said, leaving us to go and chat with her.

"Mum?" I repeated, cocking an eyebrow. I'd no idea that Stephanie had any relatives besides Poppy. But then again, I hadn't known that she'd had a daughter until this past year. She was better at keeping secrets than I'd thought.

As soon as Stephanie was gone, the smile on Poppy's face vanished. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice low so that nobody else could hear.

"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "Your mum invited me. Do you really think I want to be here? I know about what you did to get back at me. Crawling in bed with Ben." She didn't deny it. "Why would you do something like that? I went out of my way to be kind to you and that's how you repay me?"

"You're a whore," Poppy hissed. "You don't deserve Ben. And you certainly don't deserve my respect. Or kindness."

Smirking cattily, she spun on her heel and walked off. I stared after her for a moment, mouth hanging open unattractively. Why was she so hateful toward me? And who the hell did she think she was to talk to me that way? "Everything all right?" a familiar voice asked.

I whirled around and sighed with relief. It was Charlotte, one of Stephanie's escorts. She specialized in S & M. We'd butted heads when we'd first met, but now we had a mutual respect for each other. "Yeah." I nodded, taking another sip of my drink.

"Doesn't look like it." The beautiful Asian woman's voice was light, inviting. As much as she came across as a hard, cold woman, I suspected that deep down inside, there was a spark of warmth.

"It's just Poppy," I confessed, sighing deeply. "She doesn't like me."

"I noticed." Charlotte hid a smile behind her glass.

"And I didn't even do anything to make her dislike me. I took her and let her live with me for free. I was nothing but nice to her."

"She's a bitch." She shrugged simply. "What more can I say?"

"There isn't much else you can say."

"Why do you care whether she likes you or not?"

"I don't."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't?"

"You're a people pleaser, Belle. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone else is happy, but you never stop to worry about whether you're happy or not."

"Do I?" I mulled that over for a second. I'd always thought of myself as selfish, but maybe Charlotte was right. Maybe the reason I always ended up miserable was because I spent too much time worrying about other people's happiness. Hmmm. "Thanks."

"Any time."

"So…how's business been for you?"

"Delightful." We both laughed.

* * *

Across the lawn, Poppy thumbed through the contacts list on her mobile. Seeing Belle had pissed her off and she couldn't believe that her mother had even invited the trollop. Everywhere she went, she kept hearing about how wonderful Belle was and how generous. It was all bullshit. All Belle cared about was making the money. She didn't care that her actions had consequences and that they affected other people.

An evil grin on her face, Poppy's finger stopped on the name she was looking for. Ben. Sure he was too much of a wimp to stand up Belle, but he was gorgeous, and Poppy felt a strange attachment to him in a way that she'd never felt to any bloke before. Pressing the call button she waited for him to answer. "Hello?" he said finally.

"Ben? Hi, how are you?" she asked, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Poppy?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you calling me?" The smile evaporated. That stung more than she'd like to admit.

"Well, we're mates, aren't we?"

"I don't know. I seem to remember you causing a lot of trouble."

"I was going through a rough time," Poppy confessed, her tone pleading. "I'm better now. I swear."

Ben sighed. "All right. We're friends."

"Good." Her heart leapt with excitement. "So, what are you up to today?

"Not much. Why?"

"Well, mum's having a party for me out at our country house and I was thinking if you're free…"

* * *

Charlotte and I were laughing so hard our sides nearly split. Apparently, after a few drinks she loosened up a little. Who'd have guessed? "And then I said to him 'If you don't remove your hand, I will break it in ten different ways.'"

"I don't doubt that you could do it. You're a force to be reckoned with."

"Thank you." Charlotte's lips tugged into a tight smile.

"What did he do?" I asked, transfixed.

"He grabbed his clothes and got out of there as fast as he possibly could."

"I wish I could be intimidating like that." I downed another glass of champagne. "When clients get a little rough with me it takes all my willpower not to start shaking."

Charlotte eyed me for a moment before grinning. "You just need a lesson in domination. Have you ever done S & M?"

"Once." I frowned at the memory. "I wasn't very good at it. I nearly whipped my client to death."

"Kinky." She snickered. "You should stop by my dungeon sometime. I'll give you a free lesson."

"Thanks."

I really didn't want to get involved in the world of S & M again. Once had been enough for me to see that it wasn't my thing. I specialize in fantasies, but some fantasies even I can't fulfill. Sorry.

Charlotte nodded obligingly. "I can stand it when women are pathetic damsels in distress. Men may think they run the world, but it's us women who truly rule it. Without us, they wouldn't even be here."

"Cheers." I clinked my glass against hers. I wasn't sure how many drinks I had so far, but figured, if I was being forced to sit at a spoiled bitch's party, then I was going to get drunk. Maybe then I could tolerate her. I looked over and saw Poppy across the lawn. She caught my eye and grinned mischievously. _Oh, no,_ I thought, my stomach going sour. _What trouble is she going to cause now?_

Charlotte followed my gaze. "Don't let her bother you," she advised. "She's nothing but an insignificant waste of time. Just like her mother." Apparently Charlotte and Stephanie didn't get along as well as I'd thought. Figures. Stephanie can be bossy, manipulative, careless…the list goes on. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got an appointment."

"On a Sunday?"

"There's no rest for the wicked."

"Apparently not."

"My husband's out of town until tonight and I need some extra cash."

"Ah." I nodded understandingly. "Smack him round extra good for me."

"I always do." Quirking an eyebrow, Charlotte spun on her heel and sashayed off. I wish I could be more like her. Confident, strong, take-no-prisoners. But that's one fantasy I'll never be able to fill. I'll always be sweet, insecure Hannah. Except of course, when I'm Belle. Then I'm passionate and sexual. That's what keeps the clients coming back.

I watched Charlotte's retreating form. She was married to a man who knew full well what she did for a living. Why could Charlotte and Bambi both have their happily ever after but not me? Alex, Duncan, Ben, and Harry…They all ended in disaster. Why am I unable to form a lasting relationship with anyone?

Melancholy suddenly set in and I turned to leave. If Charlotte can leave, so can I. I turned and bumped into a man, spilling his red wine all over his crisp white dress shirt "I'm so sorry," I cried, grabbing a napkin from the table and dabbing at the red stains. How fucking clumsy could I be?

"It's all right, Belle." Huh? I looked up and immediately my cheeks grew fiery hot with embarrassment. It was Liam, a former client and Stephanie's lawyer. Great, now I've ruined the mystique.

"I didn't know you were going to be here." I gave him a quick hug.

"Ah, I never could refuse Stephanie anything."

"Apparently I can't either." I giggled awkwardly. "So, is…?" I scrambled to remember his girlfriend's name. I'd only met her once.

"Sylvia?" he supplied.

"Yeah, Sylvia. Is she here, or…"

"I'm right here."

At the sound of her voice, I turned around. The last time I saw Liam, he had just begun dating Sylvia Burke, Crown Prosecutor. Although we'd only spoken for a few minutes, I had a feeling that she and I would get along smashingly. And I can't help but suspect that she knows the truth about me. "Hi, Belle," she said, smiling warmly.

"Hi. It's lovely to see you again."

"And you." I can't quite place her accent. Leeds, maybe?

"We haven't seen you for awhile," Liam interjected, putting an affectionate arm around Sylvia. "What have you been up to?"

I forced myself to keep my face emotionless. "I've just been busy with work, you know." I shrugged. "In the life of a nighttime legal secretary there isn't a lot of time for social calls."

"Uh huh." Sylvia's knowing smile told me that she does know that I'm an escort. Just what I need, one more person knowing my secret. Can no one keep a bloody secret anymore? Fuck! I caught Liam's eye and shot him a questioning look. He frowned apologetically.

"What's new with you?" I had to change the subject before things got any more weird.

"Actually, we're engaged." Sylvia flashed me her ring. It was a tear-cut diamond. Nice. Must've cost Liam a pretty penny.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"When's the wedding?"

"Spring. We're thinking maybe a honeymoon in Malta."

"Wow, Malta! I've never been, but I've heard it's amazing."

"My mum's grand-dad was from Malta, so…" Liam explained.

"You're invited, of course."

"Can't wait."

"What happened to your shirt, baby?" Sylvia shifted her attention to the blood red stain on Liam's shirt.

"Oh, I wasn't watching where I was going and we collided," I explained, keeping up the friendly façade. I might not be happy that Liam told her my secret, but at least she wasn't judging me. She seemed nice enough.

"You'd better go wash that out before it sets in," she advised. "The loo's over there."

"I'll be right back." Placing a soft kiss on Sylvia's cheek, Liam made his way off to the toilet.

Sylvia shook her head. "He's a dear, but he's completely helpless," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, he is," I agreed. "But that's what I like about him." My smile vanished. "So," I pressed, "what exactly has he told you about me?"

"Everything." Sylvia's eyes sparkled. "How you two met and what you did for him."

"Oh." I averted my gaze.

"Thanks, by the way."

"You're welcome." When Liam and I first met, he had a problem. He wasn't enjoying sex. And I don't mean he was doing it and not liking it. He couldn't complete the act. As it turns out, he was bored. He was sick of tame, ordinary sex. I discovered that he enjoys dangerous, exciting sex, much like myself. It had taken fucking him on his desk with the door wide open so that his assistant or anyone else looking for him could walk in and see. Ah, memories.

"Look, it's no big deal," Sylvia insisted. "I quite admire what you do. I'd kill to have your self-confidence. And your body…how do you stay so thin?"

"Diet and exercise," I replied, loosening up. Who'd have thought that I'd be having a conversation about being a prostitute with the Crown Prosecutor? I guess it's fortunate that prostitution is legal in England.

"So, do you ever get any weird clients?" She leaned in conspiratorially.

"All the time," I admitted. "But no matter what, I always go through with it. After all, I'm not being paid three hundred pounds an hour for nothing."

"Three hundred?"

"Sometimes more."

"I guess I got into the wrong business." Sylvia laughed, the sound like the clanging of wind chimes. If I didn't know her, I wouldn't believe that this kind, cheeky woman worked in a courtroom busting balls. I guess some people can keep their job and life separate. I used to, but anymore…

Liam came back eying us with trepidation. "Don't tell me you two are swapping stories about me," he joked.

"Oh, please," Sylvia waved it off. "Belle here was just telling me about how much she makes. For that much money, I could be an escort."

"Of course, you can, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head lovingly. I couldn't help but see how much they cared about each other and feel a stab of jealousy. Ben and I had been that way once. Now, he wouldn't even talk to me. And I couldn't stop obsessing about it.

"Do you mind if I cut in." The deep, rumbling voice caused my blood to chill. I didn't need to look to know who it was. Harry.

"Sure." Liam waved obligingly. "I'll see you later, Belle."

"Lovely to see you again." Sylvia squeezed my hand before she turned and followed Liam off.

"You haven't returned my calls," Harry said, his tone gentle, hurt.

"I'm sorry, Harry." I turned to face him. "I know that you want to be friends, but I just can't do it. The attraction I feel for you is too strong and I know that it'll turn into something more."

"And what would be wrong with that?" Harry grabbed my arms, his grip tight. His eyes searched my imploringly. "You wouldn't have to change for me, Belle."

"You say that now, but…" I trailed off, sighing. "In the end it would just end terribly."

"You don't know that. I'm not the jealous type."

"Neither was Ben," I reminded him, my tone a little harsher than necessary.

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ben."

"Harry…"

"You want to get back together with him."

"No, I…"

"You've been nothing but a tease for that past two months. Using me to get back at Ben." His tone was accusing, angry.

"I told you I didn't want to see you."

"No!" He gripped my wrist tight enough to make it scream in protest.

"Stop, you're hurting me!" I commanded, my eyes darting sideways to see if anyone was watching. Of course, everyone's attention was elsewhere.

"You're nothing but a whore!" Harry growled.

My heart started to pound against my ribcage. What the hell was going on? Why was he acting like this? "Stop!"

Glaring at me for a minute, Harry released my wrists, running his hands through his hair. "I love you, Hannah. How could you hurt me like this?"

"I think you need to leave," I said, somehow keeping my voice even. "Now."

"This isn't finished," Harry promised, stalking off.

As soon as he was gone, I exhaled, letting out the breath that I'd unknowingly held. Had Harry always been psychotic, or was it jealousy driving him mad? If he'd always been a nutter, I would've noticed, right?

Willing tears of fear, hatred, and hurt not to fall, I cast my glance to my left. What I saw froze me in my tracks.

* * *

Ben made his way across the lawn, keeping an eye out for Poppy. Although he had maintained that they were just friends, he had a strange attraction for the young girl. She was just old enough for it to be legal, but he just couldn't get over Hannah. He had given her everything he'd had and she had just thrown it back in his face, unwilling to give up her job. It wasn't like he'd been asking for her to give up her child. It was just a stupid job. _One that she loves more than you, _a voice deep down inside said.

"Ben!"

He whipped around and saw Poppy, racing toward him, a smile lighting up her face, making her even more beautiful. "Hi, Poppy."

Poppy jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over. "I'm so glad you made it!"

"We're friends, aren't we?" he asked, using the very words that she'd spoken to him on the phone.

"Best friends." She kissed his cheek. "I can't wait for my mates to meet you. They've heard all about you."

"Oh…great." _Shit. _He knew what that meant. Despite Poppy's assurances that they were friends, she still had her sights set on him.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," she teased, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Ben sighed. "I'm sorry, Poppy, but I just don't think this is going to work. You obviously want to be just friends and…" He looked away from Poppy and his heart leapt into his throat. There she was! Hannah was talking with that bloke. _What was his name! _The one who had come between them. He couldn't see her face, but the guy had her in his arms and Hannah wasn't fighting him. _Figures,_ he thought, his blood boiling.

He watched as the guy walked away and Hannah stood there, staring after him forlornly. So, that was it. Hannah had broken up with him to date that bloke. _And she said it was to give you the life you deserved. What a crock of shit!_ Not thinking rationally, he snatched Poppy up in his arms and pulled her close, covering her mouth with his own. _Let's see how you like this one, Han, _he thought savagely.

* * *

I went from fearful to pissed off in two seconds. Unable to contain myself any longer, I threw my glass down and stormed over. "What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded, yanking Ben away from Poppy.

"What the hell, Hannah?" Ben shouted.

"Get away from him!" I growled at Poppy, my anger level sky-high.

"Jealous?" Poppy laughed maliciously. "Sorry, _Belle_, Ben doesn't date whores."

Before I could think, my hand shot out and connected with Poppy's cheek. A loud _crack_ filled the air.

"Enough!" Ben put a protective arm around Poppy, who was sobbing. "Get out of here, Hannah. Go back to your new boyfriend."

"What….?"

"Go!"

Ben's tone was so angry that I instinctively backed off. What the hell had just happened? Face hidden from Ben, Poppy met my gaze and winked. That little bitch! She'd deliberated provoked me so that I could come out looking like the bad guy. I guess I really had underestimated her.

Speechless, I walked off, blinking back tears. How could Ben take her side over mine? Especially after everything we'd been through? And how could he kiss her? He'd told me that he hadn't wanted anyone but me…

Stephanie caught my arm, her eyes burning with anger. "What the hell was that?" she hissed, holding me firm in her grasp.

"That was me slapping your bitch daughter," I replied coolly, tearing my arm free and storming off. _Fuck all of you, _I thought, my emotions ranging from betrayed, hurt, angry, remorseful, and ashamed. _I don't need any of you. _

A cab was waiting for my by the gate. Wordlessly, I slid into the backseat and shut the door. The driver pulled the car around the drive and exited through the gate.

* * *

I awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. Apparently, I'd had a bit too much champagne. "Please tell me it was all a dream," I muttered, burying my face under the pillow. The sound of my mobile ringing tore through my head. Anxious to stop it, I flung my hand out and grabbed it. "Hello."

"That was quite a spectacle yesterday," Stephanie said, her tone slightly cross.

"Well, maybe you should keep a better eye on your daughter," I suggested, in no mood for any bullshit. "She's done nothing but try to cause trouble for me since the beginning."

"Look, Belle, I know you and I haven't always seen eye to eye on things, but to take it out on my daughter…"

"This has nothing to do with you and I, Stephanie," I interrupted. "This has to do with Poppy intentionally trying to hurt me. She called and invited Ben and made sure to make out with him in front of me, knowing full well that it would upset me."

"I had no idea, Belle, I…"

"Forget it. Just keep her away from me. If she comes near me again, you'd better have the police on standby because I won't hold back."

I hung up and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. As much as I wanted to go back to sleep, I couldn't. I had a client in an hour and had to get ready. Lovely.

Dragging myself out of bed, I hopped in the shower, letting the hot water soothe my migraine. Now that I'd burned my bridge with Stephanie forever, I'd have to take on all the clients I could, seeing as I wouldn't have her sending any my way. _Nice one, Hannah. And that little demon-child still has my fifty pounds. _I guess it's a reasonable price to keep her out of my life. I just wish that she hadn't snagged Ben. There was no way I could be friends with him if he and Poppy were a couple. So, I guess that settles it.

Out of the shower, I dried off before doing my hair and makeup routine, I've been doing this long enough that I practically have it down to a science. I barely have to look in the mirror anymore. I decided to straighten my hair, seeing as I had a few extra minutes before I have to pretend like everything in my life is perfect. I've always thought that I look best with straight hair. Unfortunately, I inherited my mother's wavy hair, so I have to rely on modern technology to give me my flawless locks.

Checking the time, I went through my supplies. "Condoms, lubricant, anal beads, whip, handcuffs, vibrator, cock ring…" What? Not all of my clients are in it for a quick shag. Some want the dirty stuff. The things they're ashamed to ask their spouse to do. Luckily for them, I'm up for anything. I've never told a client no before. And considering some of their requests, that was pretty amazing.

Taking on last look in the mirror, I rushed out the door. The client was meeting me at a local hotel. I had just enough time to get there so that I'd arrive on time.

I'd booked a cab in advance, and it was waiting for me at the curb. "Where to, love?" the driver asked.

"The London Hilton, please," I replied, settling into the backseat. "And if you could hurry, that would be lovely."

"All right."

* * *

**Belle**

True to his word, the driver had me there in the blink of eye. "Thank you." I handed him some notes and climbed out gracefully, entering the lobby of the lush hotel. I prefer out-calls to in-calls on most days. I like the mystery of not knowing who you're going to meet and not being in the safety of your own home. Plus, I don't have to worry about being stalked because this way, they don't know where I live.

I crossed the lobby and went right into the lift, hitting the button for the sixth floor. When I'd talked to the client the day before, he'd told me that he'd be staying at the London Hilton on room 607. He'd sounded older, probably early-fifties, meaning that he'd probably just retired or was going through a mid-life crisis. Either way, it doesn't matter to me. I'm not here to judge.

The lift door opened with a ding and I stepped out, turning to the right. I followed the corridor until I came upon room 607. I cast a quick glance at my watch. Noon. Right on time. Pasting a smile on my face, I knocked lightly on the door. This is the part I love the most, the part that I would miss if I had packed it in.

The door opened and the smile froze on my face. The man standing before me was definitely older…like seventy or eighty. His face was lined with deep wrinkles and his thin, wispy hair was as white as the virgin snow. He had a round, robust belly that hung over his trousers ._Oh, my God. _"Sorry, I-I think I have the wrong room," I stammered, turning to walk away.

"Belle?" the man questioned. _Shit fuck!_

"Daniel?" I forced myself to smile again.

"Now what you were expectin', eh?"

"Not quite," I admitted, chuckling nervously.

"I know, I sound so much older on the phone."

"You sure do."

"Now, why don't you come in and we'll get down to business."

"Okay…"

I willed my feet to move as I crossed the threshold. I heard the soft click of the door behind me and followed Daniel into the room. "My, you're even prettier than your website boasts," he complimented, taking two glasses from the bar.

"Thank you."

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"Vodka?" I suggested, knowing that he wouldn't have any.

"Ah, a seasoned drinker like myself. I knew we were going to get along smashingly" He filled two glasses with vodka, handed one to me, and then raised his own. "Cheers."

"Cheers." I knocked my glass against his and downed the contents in one gulp.

My mind reeling, I set my glass down. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. It's through there." He pointed off toward the bedroom.

"Thanks." I hurried into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it. I immediately crossed to the sink and turned the tap on. What the fuck am I going to do? I know I said that I've never told a client no before, but come on. This guy is waaaay to old to be having sex. He'd probably have a heart attack during, and I will not have another client dying on my watch. I have to think of something…

A few minutes later, I came out of the bathroom, dragging my feet. I had my excuse all set up. I'd just gotten a call from my dad saying that my mum was in hospital. Family emergencies always work, right? Daniel was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me happily. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"Actually, Daniel…"

"You see, it's been a long time since I've known the touch of a woman. My dear wife, God rest her soul was the only woman I've ever been with. And since she passed five years ago, well, I've been lonely. My kids don't come round much and all of my siblings are dead. It's been so long since I've felt close to someone…"

My heart broke for the poor old guy. He was just desperate for affection. I guess I could close my eyes and pretend I'm being fucked by David Beckham, right? "I'm sorry," I said, reaching out and grasping his liver-spotted hand in my own. "That must be an awfully lonely life."

"Ah, it is. I grew up with a large family, you see, and being all alone, well, it breaks my heart. You got any family?"

"I do. Mum, dad, sister, nephew…"

"Good for you. Don't ever let anything get between you. Family's the most important thing in life. Remember that."

"Yeah." The truth was, I didn't have a great relationship with my family. I've always been a daddy's girl, which, of course, breaks my mum's heart, and my sister and I can't get along to save our lives. It doesn't help that I have to keep them all at arm's length considering my line of work. My sister, Jackie, has an inkling about what I do, but that's only because last year when she found out her husband had cheated on her, she'd left him and showed up at my flat with nowhere else to go. Ah, memories.

"Everything okay?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about my sister."

"You two not speaking?"

"She and I don't really get along," I confessed.

"I know what that's like. My brother John and I were always fighting. But now that he's gone, I look back and realize that it wasn't worth it. We could've been best friends if we hadn't let stupid shit come between us."

I sat down on the bed, as close to him as I could possibly be. "So, what would like me to do?" I asked, massaging his shoulders.

"Look, Belle, I have a confession to make."

"Oh?" I moved my hands down to the front of my dress, slowly unbuttoning it.

"I didn't hire you for sex," he said, politely averting his gaze.

"What?" My hands stopped. "Then what did you hire me for? I'm a prostitute."

"I know, but…as I said, I'm a lonely man…"

"So, you hired me to…"

"Visit with me, yeah. And I know it's mad, but it's been so long since anyone's been around to sit and talk with me."

"Shhh." I stopped him. "You don't need to explain."

"I figured, if I paid you, you wouldn't mind sitting and chatting with me for awhile."

"I don't mind." I squeezed his hand. "I'll sit with you as long as you need me to."

"Thanks, Belle."

"There's no need to thank me. So, what do you want to talk about?"

"What's going on with the bloody economy? I mean…"

* * *

We sat and talked for a long while, a lot longer than he'd booked me for. But I couldn't leave him. I felt bad for the poor old bloke. I can't imagine living your life completely alone. No wonder he was willing to pay me five hundred pounds to visit. Of course, in the end, I didn't take the money. I couldn't with a good conscience take pence off him. Who knows? Maybe when I'm his age, I'll be in the same predicament.

As we said our goodbyes, I gave him a hug. "If you ever get lonely again, just give me a ring, all right?"

"And you'll come round?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"I'll come round."

"It was lovely to meet you, Belle."

"You, too, Daniel. Take care."

As I made my way back to the lift, I couldn't help but feel good about myself. I may be a whore, and a fuck-up, and crap at relationships, but maybe deep down inside, I'm not a half-bad person. A bad person wouldn't care enough about a total stranger to sit with them for four hours and just listen to them. A good person puts others before themselves.

I exited the hotel and checked the street. No cabs in sight. _I guess that's karma,_ I thought, chewing my lip. I could either wait around for a cab, which could take ages, or I could walk home…in four inch heels. Ah, to hell with it. I turned left and started to walk.

Sure, I had lost my boyfriend/best friend and a potential new boyfriend; my madam and all the business she could bring me; but in the midst of all that loss, I had gained something new. Something I needed so much more. Peace. I'd finally found peace with myself. And that was worth all the loss in the world. And, in the end, I might be able to salvage my relationship with Ben and Stephanie, and my family, but for the moment, I was content to be alone. And if I ever need someone to talk to, I know a very lovely gentlemen who is just a short cab ride away.

* * *

Hidden from sight, Harry watched Hannah walking down the street. She looked beautiful as the early evening sun glinted off her golden hair. How he longed to run his fingers through that beautiful hair. But now was not the time. She was angry still, and that was okay. He had time. If he had to wait an eternity he would. But Hannah would be his. Harry Smith did not accept defeat. Especially when he knew that he was so close to getting what he wanted. "I'll catch you later, Belle," he said to himself, smiling. "But don't worry, I'm not going too far. I'll still be around to check up on you every now again."

He kept his eyes on her for a minute longer before turning and starting his own trek home.

* * *

**Next Time: **Charlotte takes Hannah out to a gay S & M nightclub for an evening out. Belle's client has an unusual but thrilling fantasy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Previously: **At a party celebrating Poppy's return to university, Hannah caught Ben and Poppy together. When Harry got rough with her, she washed her hands of him...or so she thought.

* * *

Chapter Three

**Hannah**

In my line of work, you have to keep up with the changing times. The economy is on a downward spiral and millions are losing their jobs. But lucky for me, prostitution is competitive, and I'm the best in the business. I love being an independent escort. It means having the freedom to set my own hours, vet my own clients, and keep all of the profits, instead of handing forty percent over to a madam. Of course, it has its downsides as well. Without an agency, I have no one to call if a client gets rough, so I have to handle it on my own. Luckily, I've rarely had problems.

I don't often get days off. If I'm not in business –even for a day—my clients will look elsewhere. And some clients, I don't want to lose. I know, it's wrong to play favorites, but what can I say? I never have been one for following the rules. I imagine that's part of my charm.

Having the freedom to schedule my own hours, I'd decided to take the day off to rest up and clean house. Plus, it's that time of the month and I don't quite feel like stuffing bits of sponge up myself. Ah, this is the life. I stretched out on the bed, the blankets wrapped around my body against the chill of the central air.

It's been two long since I've had time to take a day to relax and do the things I need to do to stay sane. I haven't read a book in ages, and back before I was an escort, I used to read nonstop. I haven't had time to catch up on my favorite programmes, like _the West Wing, _and I most definitely haven't had time to do my spring cleaning yet. I know that the reason I've been burying myself in work is to keep my mind off Ben, but after what happened a few weeks ago at Poppy's party, well, he's no longer on my mind. So, now I no longer have a best friend, but it's all right. I've still got my clients. And what more could a girl ask for?

I was just finishing my sit-ups when I heard my mobile ringing. Wiping my forehead with a towel, I got up and looked down at the screen. It was Stephanie. I haven't heard a word from Harry in over two weeks. I guess maybe he finally got the hint. Now, my life can finally return to normal. Shrugging, I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Long time, no see."

"Yeah, well, when someone's daughter maliciously goes out her way to make my life hell, I tend to avoid them," I replied, my tone cold.

"That's all in the past, dear." Stephanie sounds like she's in a good mood. Odd.

Sighing, I sat down on the edge of my bed. "What do you want, Stephanie?"

"No need to get testy. I'm doing you a favor."

"What favor?"

"How does eight hundred pounds sound?"

"What's the job?" Eight hundred pounds sounds fantastic. I know, it's my day off and all, but for eight hundred pounds, I'm willing to forgo scrubbing my floors. After all, we don't want my poor knees to give out, do we?

"An old friend's son is visiting London tomorrow from Edinburgh."

"And?"

"And he wants to have a good time. I suggested you."

"I don't even work for you anymore," I remind her.

"But you know me. I'm so selfless that I can't help but think of you at a time like this."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. Stephanie, selfless? And I'm the bloody queen.

"So, what do you say?"

"What time?"

"Say, two? He's arriving tonight and I figure that'll give him enough time to rest up and be fully recharged for tomorrow's games." She laughed wickedly.

"All right. What's his name?"

"Ross."

"Ross." I grabbed my diary and scribbled in it. "Are we doing it here or at his hotel?"

"His hotel."

"All right." I pause, feeling bad that I'd been so rude to her earlier. "Thanks, Stephanie."

"Don't mention it. Oh, and I expect my forty percent."

"Of course, you do."

"Bye."

I hung up and lay back on the bed, smiling. Eight hundred pounds. I know it doesn't sound like a lot after writing a best-selling novel, but it costs a lot of money to do what I do. Between clothes, lingerie, shoes, condoms, toys, accessories, makeup, nail polish, and cab fair, I'm lucky I'm not broke.

I rolled over and grabbed my pack of cigarettes off the nightstand, taking one out and lighting it. I suddenly didn't feel much like cleaning or hanging around the house. I wanted to go out and have drinks at a nightclub. But, unfortunately, I don't have anyone to go with. My sister, Jackie, hates going out, and I don't think I can tolerate her, anyway. And Bambi and Byron are secluded in their love nest planning for their future together. So, who can I get to go out with me?

A memory came back in a flash. It was two weeks ago, at Poppy's party. I'd been talking to Charlotte. She'd suggested I stop by her dungeon some time for a free S & M tutorial. Maybe, just maybe, I could parlay that into a trip out? It was worth a shot.

Picking my phone back up, I scrawled through my contacts until I got to Charlotte's name. Chewing my lip, I pressed the call button and listened as the line rang and rang. "What?" Charlotte demanded.

"Hi. Uh…Charlotte?"

"I said no speaking!" I heard the sound of whip cracking and someone crying out. Ooops, I must've gotten her on the job.

"Charlotte?"

"Yes, Belle?" Suddenly, her tone was lighter, friendly even.

"I was doing some thinking and I was hoping maybe we could get together and…"

"Ah, you finally decided to take me up on my offer. I didn't think it would take you two weeks." She laughed.

"Sort of." I puffed on my fag. "How about instead of an S & M lesson we go out."

"Out? I'm not a lesbian, Belle."

"No!" I laughed, embarrassed. "Not _out _out, but out, like, as in mates."

"Hold on a second." There was a crash in the background and then, "You stay in there until I tell you to come out."

I couldn't help but shake my head. It takes a lot of guts to do what Charlotte does. I'd dabbled in S & M with a regular client before, and it just wasn't for me. I don't have that much anger inside me. Plus, I find the whole thing demeaning. I heard more crashing in the background and I started to whistle the theme from _Jeopardy._

"I'm back," Charlotte announced, friendly once again.  
"Okay. So, how do you feel about going out tonight as mates?"

"I suppose we could give it a shot." She was quiet for a moment. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I haven't been out to the clubs in ages."

"Never mind, I know just the place."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

"Oh." I felt my stomach knot up in fear. Knowing Charlotte, there was no possibility that's out of bounds. She's up for anything.

"Be ready at nine. I'll pick you up."

"Okay."

"I'll see you, then. You repulse me!" I heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh with a loud _crack! _before I disconnected.

I sat there for a minute, staring at my phone. What the hell was I thinking?

* * *

I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and organizing my closet. Maybe a day off every now and then wasn't so bad. Now that I don't have a live-in boyfriend to take care of the house, I often find myself with a lot of chores to do. And with my hours, I don't feel like coming home and scrubbing the house from floor to ceiling. Maybe I should look into getting myself a housekeeper. But then, I'd have to hide my sex toys…

After a light dinner of take-out Chinese, I took a long, luxuriating bath and got ready to go out. I wasn't sure what to wear, but I figured that since I was going out with Charlotte, it was wise to go with something that's appropriate for any occasion. After going through my whole closet, I settled on a black cocktail dress. I'd just have to be careful not to spill anything on myself. It was one of my favorites and I didn't want it ruined.

I had just finished applying my lip liner when I heard Charlotte pounding on the door. Apparently she hadn't gotten enough at work. "Come in," I yelled down to her, fluffing my hair in the mirror.

"Belle?" Charlotte called.

"I'll be right down." I wiped excess lip liner off of the corner of my mouth and went down to greet her.

Charlotte was dressed in a body-hugging black leather dress. She looked amazing. No wonder she was Stephanie's new favorite. "Hi," I said, smiling brightly.

"Hi." She cast her eyes around, taking in the room.

"Thanks for coming."

"It's all right. My husband had to go to bed early, anyway."

"Oh. For work?"

"Yes." She picked up a lamp, examined it and set it back down. A cloud of dust flew up at her. Shit!

"And what exactly does he do, your husband?" I asked, hoping that by changing the subject, she'd forget about the dust.

"He's an accountant."

"And he's okay with what you do?"

She shrugged. "We have an open relationship. We're both nonconformists and realists. We know that monogamy is nothing but an illusion."

"I can't argue that one."

"You would have argued it a few months ago."

"Yeah, but that was then." I sighed. "Things are different now. I finally realized that there's no room for another man in my life. I've got dozens of blokes in my bed on a weekly basis. Why bring another one in?"

"I'll drink to that."

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, slapping my forehead. I'd been so busy chatting that I'd forgotten my manners.

"What have you got?"

"Let me see."

I led her into the kitchen, our heels clacking on the floor. I don't know why, but I love that sound. I opened my liquor cupboard and eyed the labels. "Beer, scotch, Sangria, Absolut…"

"Do you have Bacardi?"

"I think I do…somewhere…" I reached into the way back and pulled out a bottle. "Here you go." I handed her the bottle and a glass

"Thanks." She poured herself a glass and downed it. "This is my favorite," she admitted, pouring herself another.

"Go ahead and have it. I don't really like it, to be honest. That was Ben's…." My voice trailed off as I was once again confronted with the absence of my best friend.

Charlotte gulped down another glass and filled her cup again. "Here." She held it out to me. "You're going to need this."

"Thanks." Grudgingly, I swallowed the spirit, feeling my throat burn as it went down. I crinkled my face up in disgust.

"You get used to it after a few shots," Charlotte intimated.

I handed her the glass back. "So, where we going?"

"A club I know of."

"Where is it?"

"In town. Not too far from here actually."

"Oh, Fusion?"

"No."

"Then which one?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Now, stop fretting."

"Fine." I grabbed my handbag. "Ready?"

"Ready,"

Charlotte had borrowed her husband's car, a sleek black Prius. I'd never been in one before and couldn't stop admiring it. "This is really nice," I murmured, stroking the leather interior. "How much do these go for?"

"Brand new?" Charlotte glanced over at me. "About twenty five hundred pounds."

"More than I can afford."

"Not if you keep it up. Stephanie says your worth quite a bit."

"On a good day." I laughed. "Still, what we do isn't exactly cheap."

"Not in the slightest, but it's the best job in the world."

"I couldn't agree more."

Before long ,we pulled up outside of the club. I could hear the deafening thumpa thumpa of the techno music from here. Great. I looked out my window and saw the long line of men waiting to get in. They were all dressed in leather. Charlotte had taken me to an S & M club. A gay S & M club. I didn't even know they existed! I haven been to a gay club since uni. My friend Anthony had bribed me into going under the pretense that there were a lot of hot guys there. Of course, what I didn't consider at the time was that they were all gay. I'd spent the evening watching him grinding up against every man in the club. How fun for me.

Charlotte got out and locked the door. "Surprise," she sang, grinning.

"You brought to a gay S & M bar," I said under my breath so as not to offend.

"I come here all the time. Trust me, you'll love it."

"I'd better." I fell into step behind her as she approached the door. One smile at the doorman and we were waved right through, cutting in front of everyone. I guess maybe she does come here often. "How did you do that?" I asked.

"My brother owns the club."

As soon as we were through the door, the deafening music became even louder. I wanted to cover my ears but something kept my arms firmly at my sides. How the hell did these guys stand it? Charlotte wove her way expertly through the crowd, making her way to the bar. I couldn't hear what she ordered, but guessed it was another Bacardi. The bartender, a cute, ripped guy with penetrating brown eyes turned to me. "What'll be?" he shouted to be heard over to music.

"Rum and coke, please." My voice sounded muffled, but he must have heard me because he nodded and set to work. He's probably used to it. I turned around and looked out at the dance floor. It was packed with men in varying states of undress, gyrating and grinding up on each other. Most of them had leather on, but a few didn't, their eyes wide in amazement. In the far corner, an S & M show was being put on. One guy was chained to a dais, a black leather mask obscuring his face, while a bigger man stood above him, whipping him repeatedly. I couldn't help but wince. That's got to hurt!

Charlotte nudged my shoulder and I turned back. Our drinks were ready. Smiling graciously at the cute bartender, I grabbed my drink and started to sip, my eyes drawn back to the dais. The smaller guy writhed on the stage as the bigger guy dripped hot candle wax down his bare chest. I could see from my position that his erection was visible even at this distance.

I've done some kinky things in my life, but I've never understood how being whipped can turn people on. Or having hot wax poured on them. For me, the pain is too much. I draw the line at anal fisting.

"Enjoying yourself?" Charlotte asked, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

"It's not quite what I was expecting, but…"

"Give it time. Things are just starting."

"Great."

The show continued as both men removed their clothes and started groping right there on the stage. I'd never actually seen two gay men going at it. I couldn't tear my eyes away. I don't see why people get so bent out of shape about anal sex. It's perfectly natural. With a little lubrication, it's quite nice. What? Don't judge me.

They continued to frisk each other until the big one got down on his knees and, grabbing the other's erect penis, slipped it into his mouth. I couldn't help but feel a bit like a voyeur. It didn't help that Charlotte and I were the only two women in the club, either. "Let's dance," I suggested. Not waiting for a reply, I grabbed her hand and dragged her out into the middle of the floor. The crowd shifted a little to give us room. I started to sway to the music, feeling good. I'd forgotten how much fun going out was. A couple behind me started to cheer as I moved to the beat, letting it flow through me. Charlotte laughed, spinning me around and around.

We danced for a long time. The alcohol lowering my inhibitions. Charlotte and I kept giggle like school girls. As she spun me faster and faster, I started to feel hot, and the room began to spin a little. It wasn't just because I was dancing. It kept spinning even after I'd stopped. "Whoa," I said, just loud enough for Charlotte to hear.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've just got to pop to the loo. I'll be right back." I scanned the room for back corridor and spotted one across the room. I pushed through the crowd of men, the overwhelming smell of sweat and cum nearly making me sick. Dodging elbows and cocks, I came out on the other side, rushing into the corridor.

The air back there was fresher and I breathed deeply, hand on my chest. What the fuck am I doing here? I stood there for a minute, willing myself to relax. I didn't know why I was feeling so sick all of a sudden. I hadn't felt ill earlier. Then it came to me. The Bacardi. I couldn't hold it down. I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up and rushed down the corridor, slamming through the door at the end and falling to my knees in a stall. I just made it before I puked. _This is the last time I drink Bacardi_. Closing my eyes, I waited for the nausea to pass. In a minute or so, it did.

Rising onto unsteady legs, I shuffled out of the stall, looking at myself in the mirror. My lip liner was gone, but thankfully I hadn't gotten any vomit in my hair. "Thank God for small favors," I mumbled.

The pounding music cut off. The show must be over. In the silence, I heard moaning coming from the stall next to me. Frowning, I stepped closer, not saying anything yet. Another moan. "Everything all right?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," a voice responded. Masculine.

The door to the stall opened and I gasped. There were three men all in a line, having a go at it. None of them had a stitch of clothing on, and a thin sheen of sweat coated them. My mouth dropped open in shock as I recognized one of them. "Anthony?" I gasped.

The man in question opened his eyes and grinned. "Hannah!" he sang as he continued to be fucked from behind. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with a friend," I replied, shuffling my foot awkwardly.

"Is he cute?"

"She, actually. We're having a girl's night out."

"Sounds fun." He moaned as the man behind him picked up his speed.

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt. I was just going,…"

"Give me a call some time, we'll hang out."

"Sure."

I turned and ran out of the room. Okay, that was seriously the strangest thing I've ever seen and I'm not talking about the gay sex. How can someone sit there and carry on a conversation like he's out for tea when he's being fucked? And I'd definitely seen more of Anthony that I wanted to.

I fought my way back through the crowd to Charlotte. "What took you so long?" she asked. " I was starting to think you'd fallen in."

"No, I got sick." I swallowed." Look, I'm going to head home. I'd had a bit too much to drink and the last thing I want to do is wind up passed out on the floor of a nightclub."

"Are you sure? We could go somewhere else…"

"No, it isn't that. I should've known better than to drink Bacardi. The last time I drank it, I was so sick I missed a whole week of school." Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "I was sixteen."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding. "I'm going to stay for a bit. Unless you need me to drive you home."

"No, you stay. Have fun. I'll get a cab."

"Get better. We'll do it again some time."

"I can't wait."

I made my way outside, hugging my arms to myself against the sudden chill. Okay, let's face it, I'm not twenty anymore. I can't drink hard liquor and go clubbing. I looked both ways for a cab, but surprisingly, there were none to be found. I debated going back into the club and asking Charlotte to drive me, but decided against it. She was having fun, so why ruin it for her?

I started to walk, the cool air easing my nausea a little. It was about a fifteen-minute drive to my place, so by foot…probably a half hour? I crossed the street and followed it down past some shops. I saw Ben's bar and felt a tug on my heart. I was slowly getting used to life without him, but I knew that I'd never stop missing him, never stop regretting what had happened between us.

As I walked past the bar, the door opened and Ben stepped out, his keys in hand. He looked my way and froze in his tracks. "Hannah?" he asked. It was the first time in a long time that he'd not used an angry tone when speaking it me. It felt kind of nice.

"Hi," I said, continuing on.

"What are you doing walking around this time of night?" he asked.

"I need to get home and there's no cabs."

He sighed. "Come on, I'll drive you."

I stopped. "You don't have to."

"Well, I'm not going to let you walk home, am I? Get in."

"Okay." I followed him to his car and slid into the passenger seat. I couldn't believe I was back in his car again after everything.

We rode in silence. Ben kept his eyes on the road, never once looking at me. I stared down at my hands, willing myself not to get sick in his car. That would just kill me. When we pulled up in front of my place, he turned to me. "Here we are," he said.

"Here we are," I repeated, catching his eye. "Ben, I…."

"Han." He held up a finger. "Just because I gave you a lift home doesn't mean we're friends. I was just being a gentlemen, okay?"

"Okay." I felt the hot sting of tears. "I just thought…"

"Sorry to disappoint. I can't believe you gave me that whole speech about breaking up with me because it was best for me when all you wanted to was to shove me off to the side so you could date that Inspector."

"What?"

"I saw you two together at Poppy's party. How could you do that, Han?"

"I'm not dating him!" I insisted. "I told him I just wanted to be friends. We're not even that anymore."

"Oh." He looked down at his hands.

"And what about you?" I challenged. "You told me that you didn't want to be with anyone else, and I then I saw you snogging Poppy."

"That was just to make you jealous," he confessed, laughing a little.

"Do you really hate me that much?"

Ben sighed. 'I don't hate you, Han. I just…you hurt me more that I've ever been hurt before."

"I was doing you a favor," I said, reaching over for his hand. Shockingly, he let me hold it.

"Were you?" He laughed bitterly.

"I understand if you can't forgive me, but I miss you, Ben. You've been the most important person in my life for the last ten years and…it's killing me." The tears threatened to come again.

"I miss you, too," he confessed, turning to face me. His eyes were misty as well.

"Can't we just be friends?" I choked out, the tears falling.

"Not right now. I need time."

"How much time?"

"I'll let you know."

"Can we meet for a coffee or something?"

"I'll call you."

Choking back more tears, I got out. "Thanks for the ride," I managed, willing my voice not to choke with emotion.

"Yeah." I shut the door and watched his car disappear down the road, turning off onto the next street.

* * *

Surprisingly, I woke up the next day feeling back to normal. I rolled over to look at the clock and smiled. I'd slept in until noon. No wonder I felt so good. I stretched and felt my bad crack, realigning itself. Memories from the previous night came flooding back. Ben had given me a ride home, and he'd promised to meet me for a coffee one day soon. We were on our way to repairing our friendship. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

I had two hours to get ready for my client. For eight hundred pounds, I had to be flawless. I went through my usual routine and left with time to spare. The cab brought me right over to Ross's hotel and as I made my way up in the lift, I couldn't help tapping my toes. Everything felt right again.

I got out of the lift and expertly made my way down the corridor, stopping outside of his door. The smile on my face was genuine as I knocked. The door opened and my grin broadened.

* * *

**Belle**

The man on the other side of the door was gorgeous. He had short brown hair, penetrating brown eyes, and a smile that melted my heart. It was lust at first sight. "Belle?" he asked, his Scottish brogue practically making my knees quake.

"Yes. Ross?" I managed to say.

"Yes. Come on in." He held the door open wider and I passed by, breathing in his scent. Calvin Klein. My favorite. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, thanks. I don't drink while I'm working." I smiled at him again.

"Oh, the money, right." He felt in his pockets and produced an envelope. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I stuffed the envelope in my bag. "So, what would you like?" I asked, scooting closer to him.

"Stephanie promised me that you were up for anything," he said, blushing a little.

"I am. What is it?"

"I want you to dress up like a priest…"

"Okay."

"And I'll dress up like a choir boy."

"Cute."

"And I want you to touch me…inappropriately."

"Oh." I paused for a second. That was pretty out there even in my line of work. And if I went through with it, I'd most definitely burn in Hell. But, as I've always maintained, the money's well worth it. And it is kind of funny, right?

Ross laughed, scratching his ear. "Is…is that all right?"

"It's great." I grinned. "Do you have a costume for me to wear?"

"Yeah, it's hanging in the bathroom."

"I'll be right out."

I went into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Laid out on the counter was everything I'd need. The priest robes, a hairnet, and a silver close-cropped wig. God, I love my job. Giggling, I slipped into my costume, elation setting in. It's clients like Ross that I love the most. Ones with a great sense of imagination and fun. What more could I ask for?"

When I came out the bathroom, looking every part a Catholic priest, I saw that Ross had blocked out all the light in the hotel room. But I could see the flickering glow of candles from the bedroom. I followed that light, barely containing my excited laughter.

Ross was kneeling before an altar, a white choirboy's robe replacing his t-shirt and slacks. At the sound of my footfalls on the carpeted floor, he asked in a falsetto. "Father?"

"Yes, my son, it is I," I replied, making my voice deeper.

"Have you come to…give me my private lessons again?"

"I have." I stood behind him and started to rub his shoulders, my rings glittering in the candlelight. I reached down and started to undo his robe. Ross didn't fight. "Stand up," I commanded. He obliged and the robe fell away, revealing his naked body. I couldn't help but grin at his impressive girth.

Ross cleared his throat. "Is everything okay, Father?" he asked.

"Everything's great, my son. You have a great body. God must truly love you."

"Thank you, Father."

I started to run my hand down this chest, watching as his cock stiffened. I gripped it in my hand, gently massaging the head. Ross groaned quietly. "Please don't, Father." he begged, almost convincingly.

"Come now, you want to show your love for me, don't you? For God?"

"Yes."

"Then let me do this."

I continued to move my hand, slowly increasing my speed. Ross's breath started to quicken and I knew that he was close. After a few more seconds, he was done. "Thank you, Father," he whispered, grinning.

"I'm not done."

I knelt down before him and slipped him into my mouth. The metallic taste of cum sparked my taste buds. I moved my lips up and done furiously, my tongue gently massaging the bottom of his head. I could hear him moaning loudly. With a rumbling groan, he shot his load, his hands lost in my wig. After a second, I pulled back, smiling. "Now what do you say?" I teased.

"Thank you, Father."

Before I could say anything else, he blew out the candles and shoved me back onto the bed. He jumped on next to me and started tearing at my robes, his still erect penis getting even harder. I tore the wig off, shaking my long hair out. He ripped the robe clean off and started yanking down my knickers. I unhooked my bra and stared up at him in anticipation. I hadn't been looking forward to sex with a client in a long time.

Throwing my knickers over his shoulder, he rolled on a condom and dove right in, making me gasp unexpectedly. I threw my head back and felt him bury his face in my neck. His movements were slow, gentle. The promise of something greater was tantalizing.

I clung to his back, kissing his shoulder as he moved his hips, each motion causing spikes of pleasure to scream through my nerve endings. This guy is good enough to be a professional! I wrapped my legs around his torso, wanting him in me even deeper. Ross laughed, seeing me practically over the edge. We'd only been at it for a few minutes.

Just as I was about to cum, he stopped his movement and pulled out. My eyes shot open and I stared up at him questioningly. Without a word, he spun me around and entered me from behind. I cried out in both pain and ecstasy, gripping the pillow tightly. I've done anal plenty of times, but never with anyone so well endowed. I liked it.

Ross pumped away, his hand on my back to steady himself. I looked back at him over my shoulder. His eyes were closed peacefully and he was grinning broadly. Apparently he was having just as much fun as I was. He popped his eye open and winked, leaning forward and kissing the nape of neck. Goosebumps shot up all over my skin.

He moved his hips faster, so fast that the bed was slamming up against the wall. I cried out, clutching a tuft of his hair in my hand as the pleasure maximized and reached its crescendo. We both gasped as we climaxed, falling back onto the bed, drenched with sweat and bodily fluids.

We lay there for a few minutes, catching our breath. He nuzzled my arm with his nose, laughing. "That was amazing!" he enthused, his eyes alight like those of a young boy in a candy shop.

"Well, I don't like to toot my horn, but…yeah, it was." I giggled, propping my head in my hand, staring into his eyes. If I wasn't careful, I could easily fall in love with him.

"Stephanie was not kidding when she told me that you were the best in all of London."

"Thank you." I swelled with pride.

"You know, I come to London all the time," he broached.

"You do?"

"Every couple of months for business."

"And?"

"And I'd like to see you again, Belle."

"I'd be happy to have you come again."

We laughed at the double entendre. "I'll be back in July. Can you guarantee me a booking, then?"

"Of course." I reached down to my bag and pulled out my diary. "What week?"

"The week of the twenty-first, I believe."

"All right." I made a note in the margin. "Just give me a call when you know."

"I will."

He held me for a while and I remembered how much I love a good cuddle. The only client I had who'd cuddle with me was Ashok. I'll have to remember to give him a call and see when 's coming back from his holiday. Business hasn't been the same without him.

I was drifting off to sleep when Ross got out of bed. "I've got to go," he said, frowning apologetically. "I'd love to stay and have another go at you, but I've got to get home to Edinburgh."

"Okay." I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. "I'd better get going, too. I've got to go home and have a rest."

"Keep your strength up," he said, smiling warmly. "This was just the warm up. Next time, I'm going to make you scream."

"I can't wait." He put an affectionate hand on my cheek and I kissed it. "I had a lot of fun," I confessed.

"So did I. It's rare to find a woman who's willing to act out my bizarre fantasies."

"That's what I do." I shrugged.

"Don't ever change, Belle." He kissed the top of my head.

I got out of bed and threw my clothes on. Fully dressed, I paused in the doorway. "Take care," I said, stalling.

"You, too." He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. I felt electricity spark through my body.

"I'll call you in a month or so to book you again," he assured me.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

**Hannah**

We said our good-byes and I left him to get ready for his flight home. When I got outside the hotel, a cab was waiting for me at the curb. I climbed in. The driver knew to take me home. I watched out the window as the hotel faded into the skyline. Ross and I had shared something special. I know that he and I can never have a relationship or anything, but it was nice to connect with a client. Plus, I'd hooked myself another regular. Not bad for day's work.

I closed my eyes and rested my head up against the back of the seat. My thoughts drifted back to what I'd just done and how sacrilegious it was. Now, I've never been a good Catholic girl, but suddenly I felt guilty, in a way I never had before. I'd just added another eternity of torment to my already lengthy sentence. I'd been so in the moment before that I hadn't thought much about it, but now… I started to feel dizzy again.

Looking out the window, I saw a church. I'd remembered there being one not too far. "Pull over, mate," I urged. The driver pulled over and as soon as the car had stopped moving, I was out and rushing up the stone steps. I haven't stepped foot in a church since my nephew's Baptism, and that was a laugh and a half. But this…It was dark and stodgy, the atmosphere stifling. I willed myself to keep walking.

I found the confessional, but heard the priest talking quietly with someone inside. I sat down in the first pew, folding my hands neatly in my lap. I couldn't help but feel out of sorts in this Holy place, like the new member of an old clique. Like I didn't belong. I kept waiting to burst out in flames.

The door to the confessional opened and an older guy walked out. Avoiding me all together, he rushed out. I swallowed nervously and entered the confessional. I sat down on the bench and cleared my throat. "Hello, child," the pries said, his rumbling voice reverberating in the small space.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," I replied dutifully.

"What's the matter, child?"

I was quiet for a minute, mustering up the courage to tell him the truth. Sighing, I blurted it out. "I'm a prostitute. I've been one for about five years now and to be honest, I love it. I don't know if I'll ever give it up. Usually that doesn't bother me, but today, I was with a client and he wanted act out a fantasy."

"And what was it?"

"He wanted to dress up like a choirboy while I dressed up as a priest and….molested him." I waited for the priest to storm out of the confessional or berate me, but he didn't. He was silent. "Father?" I pressed.

"I am here."

"And I just feel so bad…like I've done something that's so terrible and I'll never be able to come back from it. Like I've damned myself."

"God forgives, child," the priest said softly. "If you truly regret your actions and wish to seek repentance for them."

"I do," I assured him. "I do regret my actions."

"Then the Lord will forgive you."

"Thank you, Father." I stood to go, feeling a little better.

"You're welcome, child. And remember, God loves you."

Outside the confessional, I was a young woman, sobbing. A feeling of sympathy washed over me and I sat down next to her. "You okay?" I asked gently.

"No. I'm scared." Her words were weighted with emotion.

"Don't be. It'll be all right, I promise." I stroked her shoulder comfortingly.

"But how can I be forgiven after what I did? I…" She broke off, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"You what?"

"I cheated on my husband. I don't even know why I did it, but now the guilt is tearing me apart. I don't deserve to be forgiven."

"You do," I insisted, squeezing her hand. "You regret what you did, you're on the right path. But me…" I shook my head. "I doubt there's much hope for me."

"What did you do?" the woman asked.

"I had sex for money."

"Oh." She grew quiet.

"And worse than that. I dressed up like a priest and sexually assaulted a grown man in a choirboy costume. How fucked up is that?"

"I can't judge you," she said, smiling faintly.

I smiled. "If I can be forgiven for that, you have nothing to worry about. Good luck." Maybe what they say is true and we're all sinners, doomed to struggle through life with out own demons, unworthy of God's love. But somehow, we get through it.

With that said, I turned and left the church, hoping that by some miracle, I'd be leaving a little of my sin behind. The cab was still waiting for me and I climbed in.

As Fate would have it, my mobile buzzed. Sighing, I picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hello? Belle?"

"Yes. Who's this?"

"I saw your website, and I'd like to book you. Tonight."

"Okay. What time?"

"Eight?"

"Sounds perfect. Have you got a hotel room or shall we meet at mine?"

"Yours, preferably."

"All right, mine it is. Can I ask, what's your name?"

"Vincent."

"All right, Vincent, I'll see you tonight."

"Lovely. Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up, grinning. How could today get any better? I had just enough time to do a bit of shopping before I had to get home and freshen up for my next client. "Sorry, mate, but there's been a change of plans. Can you take me to the Plaza Shopping Centre?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Right now, for me, life is perfect. Ben and I are on the mend; I have a fabulous house, great friends, and wonderful clients. Not to mention eight hundred pounds cash burning a whole in my pocket and absolution from a priest. What more can a girl ask for?

* * *

**Next Time: **During a weekend get-away wtih a rich client in Crete, Hannah runs into her parents. Will she be able to keep them in the dark about her double-life as Belle?

**Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Anthony Scalici.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Previously: **After a wild night out with Charlotte, a sick Hannah got ride home from Ben. She tried once again to apologize, but he told her that he needed time, promising to call her when he was ready.

* * *

Chapter Four

**Belle**

There are a lot of things that I love about my job. The money, the sex, the excitement. But there's nothing I love more than this. An all expense paid weekend getaway in Crete, courtesy of Marcello Cagliani, one of my regulars. He's a forty-something millionaire several times over and has his own private jet. We went to the Maldives together for three weeks about six months ago. Not only is Marcello rich, generous, and gorgeous, he's also a great lover. The perfect package.

Now, I haven't traveled much in my life. I've only been to Scotland, the Maldives, New York, and Wales on a school trip in the sixth form. It's about time I expanded my horizons. After all, there are millions of men all over the world that I have yet to meet, and I can always use more clients.

Marcello had arranged for his personal chauffeur, Raoul, to pick me up and take me to the airfield where his plane would be waiting for me. I'd fly down and meet him and we'd spend a luxurious weekend together. I know, it sounds a bit like I'm just using the bloke for his money and the opportunity to see the world, but I do enjoy his company. And I make sure he gets his money's worth and then some.

Raoul arrived at my place exactly on time. I, however, was running fifteen minutes late. I alarm clock hadn't gone off on time and if it hadn't been for Bambi calling, I probably wouldn't be up now. I'd asked Bambi to come housesit for my while I'm away. You can't be too careful these days.

I was zipping my last suitcase when I heard my mobile ringing. "Hello?" I said, using all of my strength to zip the over-filled carry-on.

"Belle? This is Raoul, Mr. Cagliani's driver. I'm outside your house…."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. I'm running a bit late." I threw all of my weight down on the bag and with one final tug I zipped it.

"I have to remind you that the plane is leaving in an hour, so if we want to get you there on time, we have to get going."

"I'll be right down." I disconnected and blew a stray wisp of hair out of my eyes. I hate being late. Ever since I was a little girl it's driven me mad. My mother's the exact same way. It's strange that she and I aren't as close as my dad and I, considering we're so much alike. I can't remember the last time she and I had a heart-to-heart. Probably never.

I lugged my bags down the stairs and made my way through the foyer to the front door. Raoul was waiting for me on the porch. Without a word, he took my bags and carried them down to the car for me. "Thanks," I said, shutting and locking the door behind me. I'd left Bambi a key under the doormat. Raoul opened my door for me and after helping me in, shut it. Wow, a perfect gentleman.

The traffic was light on the way to the airfield and as we pulled up to the plane, I couldn't help but squeal in excitement. Marcello had gotten a newer, bigger, and more fabulous private jet. I guess the recession isn't affecting everyone. I was up and out of the car before Raoul could get around to open my door. "I'll grab your bags, Miss," he said dutifully, popping the trunk and straining to lift my heavy baggage. I ran ahead and went up the ramp, gasping as I saw the interior. Marcello had had the interior designed to look like King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette's royal bedchamber at Versailles. He'd certainly gone all out.

I walked through the room, admiring the architecture. It felt like I was actually standing in Versailles, looking at the real bedchamber. What? I have a few fantasies of my own. Who doesn't want to be fucked in Marie Antoinette's bed? I sat down on the edge of bed, giggling excitedly.

Raoul set my bags down and with a bow of his head, exited the plane. A flight attendant came along and took my bags off somewhere. "Can I get you anything to drink?" a female flight attendant asked, popping up out of nowhere.

"Champagne, please?" Technically, I'm on the job, but one little drink won't kill me.

"Here you are," a deep, accented voice said. I looked up and grinned.

"Marcello!" I jumped up into his arms.

"How's my Belle, eh?" he asked, smiling so that his eyes crinkled up.

"Wonderful. How are you?"

"_Bellisimo." _

I pulled back. " I thought you were meeting me down there?"

"Ah, I wanted to surprise you."

"I am surprised."

"I got you a little something." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out small black jewelry box. I'm used to clients giving me gifts. It's one more perk to this job, as if there weren't enough already. God, I love my job!

"Marcello, you shouldn't have."

"Go on, open it, _mi amore._

Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, I accepted the jewelry box and opened it. My mouth dropped open. It was a beautiful gold ring with a diamond setting. Not an engagement ring, but almost as extravagant. "Oh, my God," I whispered.

"Do you like it?" Marcello eyed me with interest.

"It's perfect," I said, slipping it onto my right ring finger. "Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, Belle. I want to keep you happy. That way you'll come back again."

I hugged him again, my enthusiasm apparent. The ring was marvelous, easily worth a million pounds. What did I do to deserve this? "You're so good to me."

"Consider it my thank you gift for this weekend. An incentive, if you will." An incentive? As if the two hundred thousand pounds wasn't enough incentive?

"No one will bother us, right?" I asked, looking over at the doorway.

"No. They only come in if they are paged. Why?"

"I'd like to show my appreciation," I said, pushing him back onto the bed. Marcello laughed. I love it when he laughs. It can always cure me of a bad mood. I got down on my knees, undoing his belt. He worked his trousers down around his waist and I pulled them down the rest of the way. Eyes gleaming with lust, I took him into my mouth. Marcello may not be the most well endowed man on the planet, but he knows how to use what he's got. And he loves to use it, over and over and over. He really is the perfect client.

* * *

_Three orgasms and half a blue pill _later, we arrived in Crete. Marcello owns a hotel in the center of the island. People from all over the world flocked to Crete just to stay there. From what I've heard it has a wet bar, pool, gym, spa, gardens, tennis court, and a beach. Looks like I'm going to have a fabulous weekend.

When our plane landed, a car was waiting to take us the rest of the way to the hotel. "It's _molto bene,_" Marcello assured me. "You're going to have the time of your life."

"I'm sure I will." I glanced down at the ring glittering on my finger for about the millionth time so far.

"I'll be away on business for most of the day tomorrow, but you have access to all the hotel has to offer. You're my V.I.P."

"I've never been anyone's V.I.P. before," I joked. "I feel special."

"You should. You're one of a kind, Belle." He clasped my hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "No one could ever replace you in my heart."

I know that isn't true, but I choose to believe it anyway. Stephanie had given Marcello to me as a sympathy gift. I'd just found out that my then-boyfriend and editor Duncan Atwood, who'd been so accepting of my job, had been shagging half the escorts in London behind my back, including Bambi. Of course, she hadn't known until the day of her wedding they'd properly met for the first time. It had broken my heart, but I was used to it by then.

The first thing I noticed when we got out of the car was how hot it was. The temperature stays pretty cool in London, with lots of fog and rain. I love it. I've never been one for extreme temperatures. I couldn't imagine living in Florida or California where it's hot all year-round. I'm a spoilt girl, I don't like to sweat. Unless I'm in the bedroom, that is.

A bellhop came along with a cart to whisk my bags up to our room. I noticed that Marcello hadn't brought any luggage of his own. Then again, he owns the hotel, so he probably has a wardrobe already here. Must be nice. "So, what do you think?" he asks, leading me by my hand.

"It's perfect!" I exclaim, laughing. "It's so sunny and beautiful. Look at the water," I pointed out at the sea. "It's so blue."

"It's not contaminated like the water we're used to seeing."

"I wish I could live here," I mumbled. Even though I'd hate the warm temperatures, the beauty and history would be enough to keep me here. Maybe if I save up enough money, I'll buy myself a summer home here. Yeah.

"Anything is possible, Belle," Marcello assured me, "with hard work and the right attitude."

"Are you speaking from experience?" I don't know much about Marcello's past. I guess it doesn't matter, but seeing as I'm spending the next few days with him…why not get to know each other better? I know practically everything about my favorite client, Ashok. I'd gotten a call from him the week before saying that he would be home soon and couldn't wait to see me. I miss him tremendously. I've had him every second Wednesday for the last six years. He was the first man I slept with as an escort.

Marcello nodded. " I grew up poor. My father owned a small bread shop, and as you can imagine, it didn't bring in much money. And with nine children to support, we had to forgo a lot. None of my brothers and sisters went to university, and I hadn't planned on going either. But at twenty, I'd decided to move to London to pursue a career on the West End. I've sung all my life and everyone tells me I sing like an angel. It's true."

"It's nice to know that you're not modest," I teased.

"What can I say? I don't lie.." He laughed. "Anyway, when I moved to London, finding a job was harder than I expected. I was living in one room _palazzo _with a friend of my cousin Marguerita's."

"I can't imagine that was fun for you. Being a stranger in strange city."

"It wasn't, but I survived. I kept applying for jobs, but they all wanted me to have a degree. So, I enrolled at Oxford and got a degree in business management."

"How did you afford it?" I asked. Oxford isn't cheap. I'd applied there after college, but the tuition had been too high.

"I eventually found a job at a local pizzeria. I worked myself nearly to the point of exhaustion, but in the end it was worth it. I now own one of the most successful hotel chains in world. And I'm here with the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth."

"Oh, stop." I blushed. "That is so not true."

"It is from where I'm standing." He looped his arm around my waist and I snuggled into the crook of his arm.

After showing me the grounds, Marcello took me in. The hotel – thankfully – had air conditioning. After being outside for nearly an hour, I was drenched with sweat and probably wreaked like a bathhouse. First thing on my agenda: take a shower. We were given our keys at the front desk and Marcello led me to our private lift.

Our hotel "room" was actually more like a hotel in itself. It took up a whole two floors with a beautiful winding staircase leading up the second level where the bedroom and bathroom were. The first floor contained a smaller bathroom, living room – complete with top of the line imported Italian furniture—a kitchen out of _Architectural Digest_ with stainless steel countertops and appliances, and a terrace that melted my heart. The view of the ground and the ocean was breathtaking. I was definitely going to enjoy my stay. Even if Marcello left me alone, I'd still have plenty to do.

"I take it you find everything satisfactory?" Marcello asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Satisfactory? More like Heaven-on-earth. I can literally hear the angels singing. No wonder you're a hotel magnate. You know how to give people exactly what they want. Who couldn't love it here?"

"My thoughts exactly." He laughed. "I've got a business dinner in an hour. I don't think you'd enjoy it. It's just me and a bunch of other men talking about boring, business things. So, why don't I go get ready for that and you go check out the pool. It's Olympic sized and the water is as blue and pure as the ocean out there." He waved out the window."

I shrugged. "All right. I could use a bit of a tan. I haven't gotten much sun since our last trip."

"I remember." He kissed my hand again. "Everything you want is yours. If you get hungry, go down to the restaurant and order whatever you want. I told them that you were my special guest and that to deny you was to deny me."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leaned down and kissed me. "Have fun."

"You, too." I watched him walk out of the room and I settled back onto the Mies Van Der Rohe couch. Maybe I'd take a quick nap to fight off the jet lag and then go down to the pool for a dip and an hour of tanning. I lay back on the pillow and felt my eyes grow heavy. Within a seconds, I was fast asleep.

* * *

**Hannah**

A few hours later, I stepped out onto the deck, surveying the crowd. The pool was full of people, but there was definitely enough room that I could squeeze in. I sashayed across the wooden walkway, my heels clacking with each step. I'd changed out of my traveling dress into a skin-tight black bikini. I'd pulled my hair back into a French braid and dark sunglasses shielded my eyes from the blinding sun.

I was covered in sweat before I made it across the deck. Kicking off my shoes, I stepped down into the cool water. It felt heavenly after the overwhelming heat above. I let the water pull me under, closing my eyes against the burn of chlorine. I resurfaced, shaking my hair out. I felt so much better already. Now, to get a drink. I got out of the pool and sat down on the nearest lawn chair. A cute waiter approached me; a charming smile making my heart beat faster. "Can I get you anything to drink Ms. Baxter?" he asked.

"Just a water, please," I answered, slipping my sunglasses back on.

"Coming right up." I admired the view of his ass in the tight khakis he was wearing as he went to get my drink. Maybe if I got too bored without Marcello I could pick up a little extra business…I know, it's not professional, but hey, money's money. He was back within a few seconds. "Here you are."

"Thank you." I twisted my finger in my hair flirtatiously.

"You're welcome." He winked and walked away, on to his next customer. Typical man.

I settled back into my chair, closing my eyes. It doesn't take me long to get a little color. I figured I'd lay out for about an hour or so and then head over to spa. A massage sounded delightful. I opened my bottle of water and took a drink, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat.

I was sure that I'd fallen asleep again because I suddenly heard a familiar voice say, "Do you fancy a dip in the pool, dear?" It was my mum's voice. I'd know it anywhere.

"You go on ahead. I'm going to sit and the bar and knock back a few," my father's voice responded,

Shit! My eyes shot open. I had to be dreaming. There was no way that my mum and dad were here, in Crete, right now. They were tucked away at home in London watching Graham Norton or Catherine Tate. I tilted my head to the left and sure enough, there was my mum, walking right toward me. Fuck!

Mum was looking down at her feet and if I played my cards right, I could get up and leave before she even saw me. I reached down and snatched up my heels. I didn't have time to put them back on – not if I wanted to get out undetected. I had only taken one step when I caught my foot on the leg of the lawn chair and loosing my balance, plummeted headfirst into the pool.

_Maybe I can just hold my breath long enough for her to walk past, _I thought. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken a breath before my tumble and now my lungs were burning, craving air. I used my legs to propel me to the surface. My sunglasses had floated off and the sunlight nearly blinded me.

There was silence for a minute and then, "Hannah?"

"Mum?" I squinted up at her, feigning innocence. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." She laughed. "Your dad and I decided to go on holiday."

"But why Crete of all place?" I got out of the pool, no longer feeling hot.

"Why not? It's beautiful."

"It sure is." I smiled gratefully when my cute waiter handed me a towel. He eyed my dripping wet body and grinned appreciatively before scuttling off.

"What about you? What are you doing here?" Mum queried.

"I'm uh…" My mind scrambled to find a logical excuse. Holiday? Wedding? Work trip? There, that's it! "I'm here on a business trip."

"Oh." She nodded, "I wasn't aware that nighttime legal secretaries got to go on business trips."

"Yeah…Well, my boss couldn't make it and he sent me instead. He said that I work too had and deserved a break."

"I wont argue that one. I haven't seen you since Christmas. And you only live cross town." She sniffed. Oh, no. Here we go. Mum's going to get misty eyed and try to guilt me into visiting more often.

"We're seeing each other now," I reminded her.

"Niall!" she shouted, turning back toward the bar

My dad turned around at the sound of Mum's voice. He was far enough away that he wouldn't be able to tell from that distance who Mum was standing with. "What is it, Gail?" he asked.

"It's Hannah! Look!"

Dad squinted before recognition settled in. He got up and walked over. "Hannah?"

"Hi, Daddy." I hugged him, realizing too late that I was going to get him wet, too.

"She's here on a business trip," Mum supplied.

"Oh." I suspect that my dad has an inkling about what I actually do for a living. I've never told him or never even hinted at it, so I don't know how he would have figured it out. But somehow he knows, or at least suspects. Maybe he saw my website. Oh, God! My dad was looking for escorts online? Gross!

"How long are you here for, Hannah?" Mum asked.  
"Just till Sunday."

"Us, too."

"We've been here since Monday," Dad explained. "I finally saved up enough money to take your mum on that second honeymoon I've been promising her."

"How nice." I wanted to leave. Now. This was way too awkward. But what was I going to do? Walk away and break their hearts? No, I couldn't do that.

I looked toward the hotel entrance and spotted Marcello, waiting patiently. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a business dinner to go to," I said.

"Will we see you again?" Mum had the waterworks going again.

I sighed. "I've got tomorrow free. How about we all meet for dinner?"

"That sounds lovely!" Mum brightened up.

"Great." I hugged her and blew a kiss at dad. As I was pulling away, she caught up my hand and frowned.

"What's this, then?" She eyed the diamond ring that Marcello had just given me.

"Oh, that's just…a gift from the company," I lied.

"You must be doing an excellent job." Mum pulled my hand closer so that she could inspect the ring. "Are those real diamonds?"

"I think so, yeah."

I caught Dad's eye and mouthed 'help me!' He nodded. "Come on, Val. Let's go for a swim. Hannah's got that meeting to get to. We'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."'

"Can't wait." I kissed him on the cheek and hurried off. Marcello was watching me and when I was close enough, he put an arm around my waist. I didn't shake him off or turn around to see if my parents were watching. I just wanted to get out of there.

"Who were they?" Marcello asked.

"Believe it or not, they're my parents," I confessed.

"Are you kidding?"

"No. They're here on vacation." I sighed. "I thought you were going to a business dinner?"

"It got delayed an hour, so I thought I'd cine find you."

Back to work.

* * *

The next afternoon, I met Mum in the hotel restaurant for lunch. I had nothing better to do and figured that if I spent some time with her now, she might not be so emotional tonight at dinner. "You look nice," Mum complimented,

"Thank you. So do you." I sat down across from her. All we needed was Dad and Jackie and it would be a typical meal at the Baxter house .

Mum cleared her throat. "Is there anything you want to tell me, Hannah?" she asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

"What? No." I swallowed, my palms suddenly damp. Had Mum figured out that I'm an escort? That I've been lying to her for the past five years? Oh, shit! What am I going to do?

"I saw you with that gentlemen yesterday."

"What gentlemen?" Maybe playing coy would work.

"That Italian gentlemen." Marcello!

"Oh, no! That's Marcello. He's my…coworker."

"He seemed awfully…handsy for a colleague."

"Did he?" I gulped down my entire glass of wine.

"Hannah, you're engaged. Aren't you?" Mum asked, staring deeply into my eyes. I felt like she was looking right into my soul.

"What?" I almost fell out of my chair.

"The ring; the caresses; the trip to Crete…"

I thought about it a second before answering. If Mum believed that Marcello and I were getting married, that was a hell of a lot better than her finding out that I have sex with men –and occasionally women—for money. I could always explain later why it didn't work out with Marcello and we had to call the wedding off. "You caught me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mum looked hurt.

"It just happened," I said, convincingly. "He proposed to me yesterday afternoon.

"And when were you going to introduce him to your father and I? We weren't even aware that you were dating someone. Not after what happened with you and Ben." I'd told Mum that Ben and I had broken up because he had cheated on me.

"Soon?" I chewed my lip. "We haven't known each other that long and I didn't want to cause any trouble. Plus, he's a bit…older than me."

"How much older?"

"About twenty-five years?"

Mum's face remained unchanged. "Well, as long as he's good to you Hannah, that's all that matters to your dad and I."

"He is," I assured her. "He makes me very happy."

"So, when is the wedding?"

"We haven't decided yet."

"Where are you going to have it? Because we could rent out the church where Jackie did the baby's Christening and…"

Here we go. This is why I avoid my mother at all costs.

* * *

After lunch, I caught the private lift back up to the hotel suite. I unlocked the door and threw myself down on the sofa. It was very comfortable. I'd have to get the name of the designer from Marcello so that I could buy one for my house. I looked up at the staircase and gasped.

The hunky waiter from the day before was slowly descending them, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, jumping to my feet. "You nearly scared me half to death!"

"Sorry." He had a cute American accent. "I snuck in to surprise you."

"What the hell for?"

"Well, after yesterday, I thought…"

"That I was interested in you?"

"Yeah." He stopped close enough to me that I could smell his cologne. It was something that I'd never smelled before. It was nice.

"You don't just barge into people's rooms and proposition them for sex," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"But you're not just anyone. You're a prostitute."

My heart stopped beating. "How did you…?"

"I saw your website. I think you're sexy."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not interested."

"Come on. I'll pay you."

"Still not interested." I crossed to the door and opened it.

"A thousand dollars."

I turned back around, a smile alighting my face.

* * *

**Belle**

While Brian waited in the main room, I went into the bathroom to freshen up. Marcello wasn't due back for at least six hours, so there was no danger of being caught. This isn't my first experience with moonlighting. I've done it loads of times and never gotten caught. I'm a professional at that, as well.

I finished applying eyeliner and did one last once-over. Flawless. Blowing a kiss into the mirror, I turned the light out and exited the room. "Brian?" I called, my voice low and sexy.

"You look even hotter, if that's possible." He was seated on the couch, his eyes glued to me. I love it when clients are in complete awe of me. It works to my advantage.

"Thank you." I slowly made my way over to him, maintaining eye contact. I could tell that he wanted me, if the erection pressing against his trousers was any indication. Now, I normally collect the money upfront, but in this case, I'll make an exception. I don't know exactly what Brian wants, but if it's too out there or too time consuming, I'll stick it to him. I'm not cheap.

I stopped in front of him, moving my hands around to my back. I undid the clasps on my bra and let it fall to the ground, my naked breasts swelling against the chill of the air conditioning. Brian's eyes flew to my breasts and I grabbed his hands, putting them on my nipples. "It's okay to touch," I said, never breaking eye contact.

Brian started to work his hands on my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. I stepped out of knickers and started to message my clitoris, slowly as to tease Brian.

He watched me, his cock growing even harder. "Don't cum yet," he whispered when I moaned quietly.

"Of course not," I assured him, placing my damp finger in his mouth. "We're just getting started."

"Oh, yeah."

I pulled him to his feet and unbuttoned his white cotton dress shirt. I could see from his pecs and abs that he worked out often. I felt his biceps, grinning when I struggled to fit a hand around one of them. He had a hot body. Now, to see what he has down below.

I undid his belt and tugged his pants down. He was wearing flattering black boxer briefs that could barely contain his manhood. I saw a dark wet spot where the tip of his penis was. He really was excited if the pre-cum was already flowing. I reached down and yanked his boxers down. I cast a glance down and grinned. He was big. Just how I like them.

Not waiting another moment, I pushed him back onto the couch and climbed into his lap. Reaching down into my fishnets, I pulled out a condom and tore the foil wrapping off with my teeth. I pulled out the latex condom and rolled it onto his mammoth cock. As soon as I was sure that condom was securely on, I lowered myself down onto it. A gasp escaped my lips as pleasure shot through me.

Brian clasped my back, his eyes half-open. I started to move my hips slowly. I didn't want it to be over too quickly. I was enjoying the sex more than I did with Marcello and didn't want it to end before I'd enjoyed it to the fullest. I rocked gently, holding onto the sofa cushion in a white-knuckled grip. Euphoria washed through my body and I forgot where I was or what I was doing. All that mattered was the pleasure.

* * *

Gail had decided to go up to Hannah's suite and surprise her. She'd said at lunch that her fiancé Marcello would be gone all day at a business meeting. She figured that she didn't see enough of her daughter and wanted to take advantage of the situation.

She'd gone to the front desk and explained to the receptionist that her daughter was staying with Marcello Cagliani. The receptionist had been more than happy to give Valerie a key and show her to the private lift that would take her up to the penthouse suite.

Exiting the lift, Gail scanned the keycard and saw the green light flash. She tugged the door open and stepped inside. "Wow," she whispered. _Hannah wasn't joking when she said that Marcello was rich._ She heard a faint moaning sound coming from the foyer. _Hannah must have fallen asleep and is having a bad dream. _

She turned into the main room and stopped dead in her tracks. Hannah was having sex with some guy – most definitely not her fiancé—on the couch. Her hips were moving furiously and her tits were bouncing with the motion of her body. "Oh, my God!" she gasped.

* * *

I was moving my hips faster, my climax drawing near. I cracked an eye open and saw that Brian was close, too. I moaned softly, the pleasure almost too much to bear. God, I love sex. I don't know what I'll do when I'm too old to have it anymore. I guess I'll have to take up a hobby like knitting or sewing. Kill me now.

Brian grasped my ass tightly, pulling my hips to him. I moaned again, nearly reaching my orgasm.

"Oh, my God!"

I whirled around. Fuck! My mum was standing right behind me, mouth open to the floor.

"Get out!" I screamed, jumping off of Brian and clutching a pillow to chest.

"I-I'm sorry…" Mum mumbled, frozen in place.

"Get her out of here!" Brian commanded. "I paid for my money's worth and I'm not going to get screwed over because you can't keep your mommy out."

"Shut up," I snarled, glaring at him.

"What did he say?" Mum gasped.

"Nothing, Mum." I grabbed her arm, trying to steer her away.

"What did he mean pay…?" Her eyes lit up in discovery.

"It's not what you think!" I blurted.

"You're a prostitute!"

I was utterly speechless. I cast my eyes downward, ashamed. My mum had not only walked in on me during sex and seen me completely naked; she'd also discovered that I'm a whore.

"Hannah?" Mum pressed.

I forced myself to look at her, my eyes clouded with tears. "Mum, I…"

"No. No need to explain."

She turned and left. I heard the door shut behind her with a loud _bang! _What the fuck am I going to do now?

Brian came up behind me. "Can we finish now?" he asked. "I was just about to cum."

"You need to leave," I managed, throwing him his clothes.

"But I…"

"I said go!" I screamed, the tears spilling down my cheeks.

"Fucking whores," Brain muttered, following my mother out.

I dropped down onto the couch, my legs no longer able to hold me up. Everything was ruined. I'd not only destroyed my life, but my mother's well. How can I ever face her again? She's going to think I'm a whore. A filthy, disgusting, disease-ridden, whore.

* * *

**Hannah**

There was a light knocking on the door. I stood up and grabbed my bathrobe from the hanger. I slipped it on and tied it shut. Wiping my tears, I padded down to the door. I opened it to see my mum. "Hey," she said, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Hey." I held the door open for her. She followed me in and we went into the living room. "Look, Mum…"

"You don't have to explain, Hannah."

"I don't?"

"It's pretty evident. You're a prostitute."

"Yeah." I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.

"You have sex with men for money."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked at her, holding back a fresh wave of tears. "Because I knew if I did, you'd hate me. You'd think that I was disgusting and crawling with S.T.I.'s and worst of all, that you'd be disappointed in me." The tears came and I sobbed uncontrollably. I'd fucked everything up once again.

Suddenly, I felt my Mum's arms around me. "It's okay," she whispered, stroking my hair just like she'd done when I was little and Dad wasn't home to comfort me when I fell down and skinned my knee or awoke from a nightmare. "I don't think any of those things about you. And I am not disappointed in you."

"You're not?" I looked up at her.

"Of course not, honey. You're my daughter and I love you no matter what. I may not agree with what you're doing, but at least you're working and supporting yourself. What more could I ask for?"

"Thanks, Mum." I hugged her close, feeling bad for all the years that I'd hurt her –unintentionally – by favoring my father.

"I do have a question, however."

"Yes?"

She reached into her bag and pulled out a book. "Did you write this?"

I looked down at the title and laughed. _The Secret Life of a London Call Girl._

"Yeah. Yeah, I wrote it."

"It was the strangest thing. Jackie bought this for me for Christmas, and as I started reading it, I kept hearing your voice. Like you were narrating it."

"That is weird."

"So, is everything in the book true?"

* * *

Dinner with my parents went better than I'd expected. Now that I no longer had to keep a secret, I felt at ease, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course, we didn't talk about the fact that the cat was out of the bag, but we didn't need to. We laughed and reminisced about my childhood and things that were important to us. They said that they were going to get up and leave first thing in the morning and knowing that I can't get up before noon, we said our goodbyes. After hugging them both and feeling for the first time like they really got me, I promised to stop by and see them more often. And I meant it.

When I got back to the hotel room, there was a message on the phone from Marcello. He'd been held up at his meeting and didn't know when he'd be back. I decided to lie down and rest for a while. I'd had a stressful day and I couldn't afford wrinkles.

When I opened my eyes, it was going on noon. Marcello was making us a quick bite to eat before we left. "Good morning," he said, kissing the top of my head.

"Morning." I stretched. "What time did you get in last night?"

"About two."

"Why so late?"

"The meeting took a little longer than I'd planned. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." I shrugged. "It's not as if I'm your wife or anything."

After breakfast, we showered and caught a cab back to the airfield. We were mostly quiet on the car ride. Marcello was reading a newspaper and I was burning the images that were passing by into my memory. I never want to forget what a beautiful place Crete is and I hope to come back some day. Maybe Marcello will bring me next time he comes.

On the flight back home, Marcello and I made love. He was tender and sweet, holding me afterward as our hearts pounded in time. I buried my head in his neck, savoring his sweet smell. I'd grown even fonder of the old bloke this weekend and I would miss him. I didn't know when I'd see him again as he only booked me every couple of months.

"I really enjoyed this weekend, Belle," he assured me as we got off the plane.

"Me, too. Hopefully we'll do it again." I sketched a circle in the dirt with the point of my shoe.

"I'd love to. After the business negotiations are done and I go down to Brazil to oversee the construction of my new hotel, I'll give you a call. We'll go together."

"Sounds lovely."

"Thanks for a lovely time." He handed me an envelope nearly bursting with cash. I discreetly shoved it in my bag.

"The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for everything. I'd never get to see the world if it wasn't for you."

"You can always see the world, Belle. You just have to do it. No excuses. You're a woman of the world, it's time you got out and saw more of it."

"I'll think about it." I laughed. "So, I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Yes. I'll call you." He pulled me close and I hugged him, smiling. He may not be able to give me his undivided attention and time, but he was the perfect client. Kind, courteous, and a big tipper.

We said our goodbyes and I got into the car that was to take me home. I watched out the back window as Marcello's car rushed him off to God knows where. It must be quite a life to be jet setting all over the world every day of the week. I don't think it's for me. As much as I love seeing the world, I love London. And I don't plan to ever leave it.

When I got home, I found my mail stacked neatly on the table. Bambi had stayed and watered my plants and gotten the post. It felt good to be back in my own home. I was just about to climb into a bubble bath when my mobile shrilled. Looking down at the Caller I.D. my lips tugged into a smile. It was Ben! "Hello?"

"Han."

"How are you?" My heart raced with excitement.

"Great. And you?"

"Never better."

"Listen, I was thinking we could do lunch sometime soon. Catch up."

"Sounds perfect. I'll let you know when I'm free."

Yeah, my life is good. You could even say perfect.

* * *

**Next Time: **Belle's client has a Phantom of the Opera fantasy. After getting tested for HIV, Hannah gets upsetting news.


	5. Chapter 5

**Previously: **While away with a client in Crete, Hannah ran into her parents. Her mum walked in on her having sex with a client and in the process, her secret was revealed. Ben called Hannah for lunch.

* * *

Chapter Five

**Belle**

Fantasies are the fruit of life. We all have them. Whether it's Catholic schoolgirl or naughty nurse; public sex or who's your daddy?; domination or submission. We all fantasize about something. My personal fantasy is to have a threesome with two hot, hung, horny men. Alas, that's one fantasy I have yet to act out. Maybe for my next birthday…

My working life is based on fantasies. I have to be able to fulfill ever fantasy that my clients bring to me, no matter how ridiculous or offensive. But the money makes it worth my while After all, what's a little degradation when you get a couple hundred pounds an hour? Exactly. Nothing.

My favorite clients are the ones that have the strangest fantasies and the most vivid imaginations. In the life of a prostitute, sex gets boring after awhile. But when you throw in sparkle and pizzazz, well, that makes it so much better.

It was Wednesday afternoon. My client was a regular, Justin. I've been seeing him on and off for the last couple of years, but the thing that draws me to Justin the most is his creative mind. His fantasies never disappoint. They're always thrilling and imaginative. And hot. I've had some of the most intense orgasms of my life with Justin. I guess that's one of the perks of fucking a writer.

I wandered through the dungeon, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. "Where are you?" I cried, looking around fervently. My footfalls echoed off the stone walls and the only light was from torches lining the walls. He'd really gone all out on the set.

"I'm behind you," a deep voice said from behind me.

I whipped around but there was no one there. Ghostly laughter resonated throughout the room. "Where are you?"

"You're not looking hard enough, Christine."

"Please!" I begged. "You're scaring me!"

"Sing," the ominous voice commanded.

"What?"

"Sing, my angel. And then you'll see me."

I swallowed past the nervous lump in my throat. "What should I sing?"

"You know."

Taking a calming breath, I start to sing.

In sleep he sang to me in dreams he came

_That voice which calls to me and speaks my name  
And do I dream again? For now I find_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind._

As soon as I finished singing my line, a dark figure flew out at me. I gasped and stumbled back. It was man dressed all in black with a small white mask covering half of his face. The Phantom of the Opera! "Please, don't hurt me!" I plead, holding my hands out in front of me.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Christine," the Phantom promised me. "I'm going to show you why you belong down here with me." His voice is deep, sexy. I can feel my nipples hardening, pressing against my bodice.

He steps closer and as he does, I reach forward and tear the mask from his face. I screamed when I saw what was hidden underneath: a face so deformed it couldn't belong to a human being. Eyes rolling into my head, I fell down, "unconscious". The Phantom picked me up and set me down gently on a bed. Next, I felt him ripping at my skirt, tearing it from my body. He put my legs up on his broad shoulders and slipped into me. I moan softly in my "sleep."

He started out slow and gentle, so as not to wake me. I felt my arms, as if of their own accord, wrap around his back, holding him close. I crack my eye open a peep and immediately shut it again. Don't want to spoil the fantasy.

The Phantom shifts my legs up higher, allowing for deeper penetration. This time I couldn't contain myself and moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure. He laughed and increased the speed of his movement. The pleasure swelled and I opened my eyes. "Oh, yeah," I gasp, panting. "Fuck me, Erik."

"Call me Phantom," he prodded, pounding me even harder.

"Oh, God! Phantom, you're so good!"

"I want to hear you scream!" he bellowed, nearing his climax.

I screamed shrilly, flinging my head from side to side.

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

We climaxed and he fell down on top of me. We lay there for a minute, breathing heavily. "Well?" I look up at him. "How was it?"

"Even hotter than last time." Justin raised his head and rubbed the makeup off of his face. "Who'd have thought that _Phantom of the Opera_ would be better than _Planet of the Apes_?" He rolled off of me, falling back against the pillow.

"Not me." I laughed. "Have I ever told you that you're my favorite client?"

"I am?" He grins.

"Of course you are. None of my other clients have your imagination. You make my job so much fun."

"Well, thank you. It isn't often that I get praised."

" Yeah, right!" I glanced over at him. "You're an award winning author whose books have been made in critically acclaimed films. You should be used to praise."

"That kind, yes." He traced a hand down my cheek. "But I'm not used to praise from beautiful women."

It's true, Justin isn't the most attractive bloke, but he's got a big heart. That's better than looks, right? Yeah, I know. Looks over anything else…except cock size. I rolled over to my side so that we were lying face to face. "Fuck them. This woman things you're brilliant."

"Thanks, Belle." He smiled. "What would I do without you?"

"Write more brilliant novels?'

"Sure, but I'm be bored out of my fucking mind. No one gets me like you do."

I nodded. "What can I say? I love sex and I love fantasies."

"You sure do."

I looked out at the room we were in. It looked like a genuine dungeon with real torches on the walls and aged, water-eroded stonewalls. "You must've spent a fortune getting this room prepared," I noted.

"I did, but it was worth it."

"So, what are you going to do with it now? You've played out the fantasy."

"I'll keep it. Maybe they can film one my movies down here."

Justin lives in a big mansion with a spacious basement. He constructed each room to house a fantasy. He's got a proper dungeon with whips and chains, a classroom, a hospital room…the list goes on. I've been in practically every room. I don't know what we're going to do when we run out of rooms.

Justin looked down at his watch and sighed. "Back to work," he mumbled, getting up off of the bed.

"Work? Are you writing a new novel?" I asked, getting up, too, the sheets wrapped around my chest.

"Yeah." He scratched his head.

"What's is about?"

"Promise you won't laugh?" I nodded. "It's about a bloke who has crazy fantasies and acts them with escorts."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," I teased.

"I'll let you read it when I'm finished."

"Sounds great."

I got dressed and we went upstairs together. I paused by the door. "So, when will I see you again?"

"Hmmm…" Justin scratched his chin. "How about same time next week?"

"I should be free."

"Great."

"What fantasy will it be?" I can't help but ask. I mean, with Justin, you never know.

"I was thinking…" he paused for dramatic effect, "_Cats_,"

"Sounds purrrrrfect," I joked, doing my best Eartha Kitt as Catwoman impression. I was spot-on.

"I'll see you, then."

"Bye." I leaned in and pressed my lips against his before leaving.

* * *

**Hannah**

On the ride back into town, I can't stop smiling. Last week when I got home from my trip to Crete, I got a call from Ben. He wanted to meet me for lunch. Considering that he and I have barely spoken since I left him standing broken hearted on the Embankment three months ago, this is a miracle. I was sure that he'd never talk to me again and that I'd have to go through the rest of my life without my best mate. Is there anything worse?

Ben and I were meeting up in half an hour, which left me enough time to get there. I would've preferred to go home and shower first, but this was the only time he could spare for me. He's been busy lately. I'm not sure what he's been up to, but he'd promised to tell me.

The cab pulled up outside the restaurant and I threw the driver a wad of notes. Getting out, I hurried in, hoping beyond hope that Ben hadn't changed his mind and stood me up. My eyes scanned the crowd and my face lit up when I spotted Ben sitting at a table in the back. I grinned and walked over. "I'm so glad you're here!" I exclaimed, hugging him fiercely.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, laughing. He's the old Ben again. Thank God!

"I was afraid that you'd come to your senses and run away as fast as your little legs could carry you."

"Oi!" he said with mock severity. "My legs are not little, okay? There is nothing little about me."

"Okay." I threw my hands up in defeat. "There's nothing little about you." I grinned. "Except for your penis."

"You're going to get it!" He dipped his hand in his water glass and shook it at me. I gasped in mock offense and flicked some back at him. It felt nice to be back where we were before it all went to shit. I vowed to do everything in my power to not fuck it up this time.

We ordered our food and Ben chewed his lip, staring at me intently. "What?" I asked, itching my ear self-consciously.

"Remember last week when I called you to see if you wanted to meet up for lunch?"

"Yeah." I frown. "Why wouldn't I? It was only last week.

"Stop taking the piss out of me." He chuckled. "I told you that I've been really busy lately."

"I was going to ask you about that. What's going on with you, Benjamin? Why are you so busy all the time?"

"Promise you won't laugh?" he asked, serious.

"Sure." I shrugged. "Tell me."

Ben took a deep breath, blowing it out his cheeks. "I've decided to open my own bar," he said, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

"What?" I feel my mouth drop open in shock.

"I'm sick of being a bartender, Han. I want to be the one calling the shots. I know enough about it that I could do it."

"Of course you can do it." I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." He smiles. "I'm opening next Saturday night."

"This Friday night?" How long has he been planning this?

"Yeah."

"Wow. I didn't think it would be so soon…"

"I've been thinking about it for a while."

"You never said anything to me."

"I was going to tell you, but then everything went to shit and…. I didn't."

I swallow. "I'm really happy for you, Ben. Truly. I know that you'll be amazing. You always are."

"Shut up!" He laughs. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah. You're my best mate," I reminded him."

"I have a favor to ask you." He cleared his throat.

"Of course. Anything."

"I'd like you to come to my opening. I want you there with me, Han. As my best mate, as my girlfriend, as my ex-girlfriend, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you're there."

"I'll be there," I promise. "I don't have any clients booked and if they do call, I'll tell him I'm sick or something. What's one night off, right?"

"Right." He squeezes my hand.

"I'm really glad we're speaking to each other again." I smile. "I really missed you."

"Me, too."

The waiter brought our food and we were quiet for a minute. "So," I said, breaking the silence, "are you seeing anybody."

"Not really." Ben chewed his food for a second.

"It's a yes or no question, Ben," I teased.

He sighs. "There's a girl that I've been seeing for a while."

"Ooh. Tell me all about her." It's strange. Three months ago, I was madly in love with Ben. Now, I'm happy that he's been dating someone. I still love him, though. I suppose I always will. Maybe some day, after I've packed in escorting, we'll give it another go. But as long as I'm doing what I do, I can't have a relationship.

"Her name was Gwen."

"Where did you mean her?"

"At the bar. She came in one night and kept ordering drinks. It took me all night to realize that she was hitting on me."

"How did you not notice?"

"I guess I didn't want to." He shrugged.

"So, what happened?" I pressed.

"I had had a bit to drink and I took her back to my place and we shagged. Next morning, I couldn't even remember her name.'

"I'm sure she loved that." I laughed.

Ben nodded. "The next night, she came back and I felt bad, so I talked to her and got to know her. She's really nice, Han. You'd like her."

"As long as she's nothing like Vanessa, I'm sure I will."

"Oh, no." He chuckled. "She's nothing like Vanessa."

"Good. I hated that twat."

"She hated you, too."

"I don't know why! I never did a thing to her."

"She knew."

"Knew what?"

"That I was in love with you."

"Oh." I took a sip of my drink.

"Anyway. I'd like you to meet Gwen sometime."

"I'd love to. Will she be at your thing next Saturday?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll meet her, then."

"Good." He takes a bite of his chips. "What about you? Are you seeing anyone special?"

"God, no. I've come to the conclusion that in my line of work, it's best to keep the number of men in my bed strictly down to those who pay. Add anymore and it all gets complicated."

"Yeah. I remember."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. We were trying to put the past behind us, but it was still there, staring us in the face. "So," Ben said finally, breaking the silence. "Have you seen that Harry guy lately?"

"No. Not since Poppy's party," I replied.

"Good."

"Why is that good?" I asked, frowning.

Ben shrugged. "I don't know. I just…get a weird vibe from him."

"What kind of vibe."

"A dangerous one. Like he's a predator and you're his prey or something."

"I don't know about that…"

"I'm not kidding."

"He's a cop."

"Just be careful. Please?" Ben's eyes are pleading.

"Of course," I promised. "Thanks for looking out for me."

"What are best mates for?"

I couldn't hold back a smile.

* * *

The following afternoon, I was in town. For some reason, I've had a slump in business this week. I've had one client since Justin, and that was some bloke I'd never seen before. He was pretty easy though. All he wanted was s quick blowjob and shag, and then he was out the door. The pay wasn't half bad either, five hundred pounds for about an hour's work. Not bad at all.

I know, I'm not supposed to like it when I've got no clients, but it seems like all I've done lately is work. And now that Ben and I are speaking again, I'd some time to hang out with him and have some semblance of a normal life again. I've been all Belle and no Hannah, which is not very good for my psyche.

Having some time off, I'd decided to go get some blood work done. In my line of work, you can never be too careful. Although I always use condoms, I still have to go get tested every six months. It just so happens that it's been six months since my last test. Time to go get poked again. And not in a good way.

I hate needles. The thought of them makes my heart pound and my throat swell. Unfortunately, it's something I have to live with. The first time I got blood drawn, I passed out in the doctor's office and made a fool of myself. Ever since then, I've avoided needles as best I can. The doctor I go to for my blood work knows this and makes sure to sneak me a Valium beforehand. He's a client and friend.

I was sitting in the waiting room, tapping my foot nervously. I couldn't focus on the magazine I was reading, another article about Brangelina, as if there aren't enough out there already. The magazine featured articles on all of the "hot" Hollywood A-listers: Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Beyonce, TomKat….

"Hannah Baxter?" the nurse's voice rang in my ears.

I stood up on shaky legs and caught the nurse's eye. "That's's me," I said, my voice squeaking a little.

"The doctor will see you now." Her phony smile was in no way comforting. Someone needs to work on her bedside manner.

The nurse led me down the corridor and to into an examination room. I took a seat on the comfy chair and willed my heart rate to slow down. Usually, the nurse would take my blood, but because I know the doctor personally, he comes in and takes care of it. That saves me from having to explain to the nurse the reason I'm coming in to test my blood for S.T.I.'s. Sure, prostitution is legal in England, but still, who doesn't frown on whores?

The nurse – Brenda, according to her nametag—left as soon I got settled. Apparently she knew the procedure. I stared at the white, sterile walls and couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach. I don't know what I'd ever do if got HIV or AIDS. I wouldn't be able to go on escorting, and I certainly wouldn't be able to tell my family. It would be too embarrassing. I don't even think that I'd be able to tell Ben. I couldn't stand to see him upset again, not like he was that night on the Embankment.

After what seemed like forever but was actually just a few minutes, the doctor came in. Dr. Gareth Abrams is an attractive man. Early thirties, tall, and fit. His smoldering eyes make me wet just looking at them. He looks a lot like Ricky Martin, who, gay or not, I'd definitely have a go at. "Belle," he said, fondly, pulling me into a hug. I practically melt into his broad chest. God, I love a man with pecs and six-pack. As he pulls away, I lean forward and kiss him once on both cheeks.

"How have you been?" I asked, squeezing his hands.

"Marvelous. And you?"

"Fantastic."

"This is for you." He held out a tiny pill. My Valium.

"Thank you." I took the pill from him and downed it.

"Just don't ever tell anyone. I could lose my license."

"Mum's the word, dear."

Laughing, he sat me back down. "So, the usual?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah. I can't believe it's been six months already."

"Time flies when you're having fun."

"Shut up," I teased, giggling. Gareth is the easiest person in the world to get along with. No wonder he's been interviewed by countless magazines and won prestigious awards.

Gareth walked over to the supply cupboard and pulled out the packet with the needle in it. I lowered my eyes and focused on the tiled floor. It was white, just like everything else in the clinic. Why is it that all doctor's offices, hospitals, and clinics are white? Are they afraid that color with upset the patients? Or is it just to make them all standard-issue, so that no matter where you go, you'll get the same standard of care you'd get anywhere else?

I was so distracted that I didn't even feel the needle go in. "There," Gareth murmured. I looked down and saw the needle in my arm, blood filling up the capsule. Thanks to the Valium, I remained perfectly calm. "How are you feeling, Belle?"

"Fine." I shifted in my seat. "The Valium really helps."

"Good." He cleared his throat. "So, I was hoping to get a booking with you soon," he said, his voice low so that passersby out in the hall wouldn't hear.

"Okay. When?" I didn't have my diary with me, but I didn't need it. I didn't have any bookings at all this week. Hopefully business picks up soon. Otherwise, I'll be forced to go straight. Eugch!

Gareth scratched his chin. "How's the day after tomorrow sound?"

"Perfect. Any preference? Day? Night?"

"How about an early evening? That way we can have dinner first?"

"Great."

He pulled the capsule off of the end of the needle and put a cap on it. Then, he carefully removed the needle and put a cotton ball down on the entry wound. His touch was warm and gentle. I was definitely looking forward to our appointment. If he didn't have other patients, I'd have gone for him then on the observation bed. Down, girl!

We said our goodbyes and after writing down the appointment date – as if I'd forget—I left to go do some shopping. I don't have anything better to do, I might as well do some shopping therapy.

The next few days flew by in a blur of activity. With a few days between clients, I had more time for the essentials: body waxing, eyebrow plucking, moisturizing skin treatments.. I even went and got a little preventative Botox injection. I can't be getting wrinkles. Absolutely not! Nothing would kill my career faster…unless I gained a hundred pounds.

I went out and bought a couple bras and a few pairs of knickers. I even found a nice pair of shoes that I couldn't help but buy. Sure, they were more than I make in an hour, but hey, I can afford it.

* * *

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was itching for some business. I'd never gone this long without business before…well, now while I was working. I just hope I'm not fucked out of a job now. I don't even know what I did to make the clients turn and run the other way. I need this appointment with Garth more than I care to admit.

I was sitting down in the kitchen having a cup of tea when I heard knocking at the door. Frowning, I got up and padded down the corridor to the foyer. I opened the door and got even more confused. "Gareth?" I asked, knitting my brows.

"Hey, Belle." He didn't smile.

"Uh…Our appointment's for tonight right?"

"Yeah. This is a house call."

"Oh." I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Why was Gareth here on a house call? Unless…No, I won't think about it. I couldn't think about it. If I did, I'd probably die from a heart attack.

I led the way into the living room. "So, what's up?" I sat back down at the table, holding the warm tea in my hands.

"I really don't know how to tell you this," Gareth began, looking everywhere but at me.

"Tell me what?" I could feel a nervous lump forming in my throat.

"I've got your test results, Belle."

"And?" My heart started to thunder in my chest, harder than I'd ever felt it beat before.

"You're negative," he mumbled.

"What?" I demanded.

"You're negative."

"Not HIV?"

"No."

"Oh, thank God!"

I threw my hands ups up excitedly. I could already feel myself relaxing. Why the fuck had he come here to tell me instead of just calling? "Is that all?" I pressed.

"No." He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"What is it?" My stomach started to knot up in fear. What could be worse than HIV or AIDS?

"You've got Syphilis, Belle."

"Syphilis?"

"Syphilis," Gareth repeated slowly.

"But, no gets syphilis anymore," I argued. "This isn't the nineteenth century."

Gareth chuckled. "People can still get syphilis today."

"But, how did I get it?" I asked, my mind reeling.

"It must have been one of your clients.."

"No." I shook my head. "I always make them wear a condom."

"Maybe the condom broke?" he suggested.

I groaned, letting my head fall down onto the tabletop. How the hell could I have not noticed that one of the condoms broke? "How long have I had it?"

Gareth shrugged. "A few weeks. Maybe a month, tops."

"Shit!"

"What?"

"Do you know how many clients I've had in the last month? How many people I could've given it to!"

"Relax, Belle. It'll be all right." He reached over and enveloped me in his well-muscled arms. I immediately felt a little better.

"I'm so embarrassed," I confessed, burying my face in his chest.

"Don't be. Things like this happen all the time."

"I'm not going to have to call up every client I've had sex with in the past month and tell that I've got syphilis, am I?"

"You probably should. But I'd understand if you didn't."

I sighed. "What do I have to do to cure it?"

"That's the easy part. All you need is a shot of penicillin."

I chewed my lip. "You wouldn't happen to have one in your doctor's bag, have you?"

"No, I don't. But if you come into the office, I'll give you one. You'll be in and out in no time."

"All right, let's go." Sighing, I grabbed my handbag.

* * *

The shot hurt a little, but I was too embarrassed to care. It made me feel dirty and low. Like a gutter rat or something. I'm supposed to be a high-class escort. High-class escorts don't contract syphilis. Thank God I've been in a slump lately. "So, what happens now?" I asked, rolling my shirtsleeve back down.

"Now, you wait. No sex for forty-eight hours. Just to make sure that the disease has left your body."

"Thank you, Gareth." I smiled sheepishly.

"It's my pleasure." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Just be more careful from now on, okay?"

"Believe me, I will," I assured him. I turned and opened the door.

"Oh, and Belle?"

"Yes?" I turned back to face him. "I'll be seeing you in two days."

I couldn't help but smile. "See you, Gareth." I left the office and caught a cab back home. I let myself in and dropped down onto sofa. My life was slowly spiraling downward. How could it get any worse? Sighing, I looked down at my mobile, clutched in my hand. My conscience was telling me to go through my diary and notify all of my recent clients that I had syphilis and that they should get tested, too. But my pride told me that if I did that, I really would be out of a job. No one would want a disease-ridden whore.

Instead of doing what I should have done, I called Ben. "Hello?" he said.

"Hey, Ben, it's me." I chewed my fingernail.

"What's up?"

"Nothing…"

"Hannah, I know you better than that. I can tell something's wrong."

"Fine." I sighed. "I went to the doctor to get my blood work done…"

"Uh huh…" I could hear the fear in his voice.

"I got my results back." I paused for a second.

"What, Hannah?" Ben pressed, his tone urgent.

"I've to syphilis."

Ben burst out into laughter. Hearing it, I couldn't help but join in. Thinking about it objectively, it was kind of funny, especially considering that nobody's had syphilis since the 1800's.

When we'd regained our composure, Ben asked, "So, what do you have to do to get rid of it?"

"I went and got my penicillin shot. Now I just have to wait two days to make sure it's cleared my system."

"That can't be good for business."

"What business? I haven't had client since Wednesday."

"Another bad review?" Ben suggested.

"I doubt it. Things are just slow right now."

"Don't worry, Han, you'll get through it. They'd be crazy not to want to have sex with you."

"Thanks." I could feel my mood brightening a little. Ben was right. I had the highest ratings of all the escorts in London. Things would get better. They had to.

"Did you tell your clients?" Ben inquired, shattering my good mood.

"No," I replied defensively.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm embarrassed."

"You've got to tell them, Han. It's the right thing to do. Do you want someone to die because they didn't know they had it?"

That struck home. What if I killed someone because my pride got in the way of my better judgment? "Hannah?"

"I'm still here."

"You've got to do the right thing," Ben continued.

"I will," I promised, fishing my diary out of my bag. "In fact, I've got to let you go."

"Hannah…"

"I'm going to call them as soon as we get off the phone."

"All right." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'll talk to you later."

"Laters."

"Laters."

I hung up and stared down at my diary for a second. Whether or not I damaged my pride wasn't the issue. The truth was. I've never really been one for lying, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I opened my diary to the beginning of the month and punched the fist phone number I saw into my mobile. After a few rings, a man picked up. "Hello."

"Hi, uh…" I looked down at the entry. "Paul. This is Belle."

"Oh, hey. You just couldn't get enough, could you?"

"That's not why I'm calling. I was the doctors the other day and…."

* * *

**Belle**

In the end, telling the truth was easier than I'd expected. As I feared, some of the men were upset and vowed never to return again, but the majority of them were understanding. I guess in the world of prostitution, it's to be expected.

Gareth was due any minute and I couldn't help but feel excited. After going five days without a client, I was bursting with nerves and pent-up sexual angst. Especially seeing as I couldn't have had sex the last two days even if I'd gone out and picked up some bloke at a bar.

The sound of the familiar knocking on the door brought a smile to my face. I skipped to the door and opened it. Gareth was grinning broadly. "All better/" he asked.

"All better." I opened the door to allow him in.

"Thanks." He stepped in and shuffled out of his coat.

"I'll take that." I accepted the jacket and hung it up in the closet. "So…"

"So…"

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks. I've got to get back to work after we're done."

"Okay."

Since we'd had to reschedule the booking, Gareth and I wouldn't be able to go out to dinner as we'd planned. But it was okay. The fact that he was even there meant more to me than dinner.

We went into the living room and I sat down on the couch. "So, what do you want to do?" I asked.

"I want to fuck you." He laughed. It was weird hearing the usually courteous man use foul language.

"Then get to it." Eyes gleaming, I pulled my shirt over my head. Gareth's eyes shot down to my bra. Locking eyes with him, I reached around and undid the clasp. I let it fall to the floor. I too Gareth's hands in mine and placed them on my breasts. At the feel of his hands, my nipples hardened, aching. He started to massage them, molding them like clay.

I slid out of my skirt, leaning back and pulling Gareth down on top of me. I could feel his stiff cock digging into me as I tossed my knickers off to the side. Digging around on the coffee table, I grabbed a condom. As Gareth kissed my neck, his both breath getting me even more aroused, I ripped the wrapper off and rolled it onto him. I vowed that from then on–a just to be safe – I would be the one to put the condom on the client. I'm an expert.

Not wasting another minute, Gareth slipped in. I moaned, biting my lip. The feel of him inside me was amazing. I don't if it was because I was so attracted to him or because I hadn't had sex in nearly a week, but I couldn't remember a time when sex had felt so good. As if of it's own accord, my head rolled back.

Gareth's movements were slow, passionate. I never figure out how a hot, young man lie Gareth had to pay for sex. Maybe he got a thrill from it? I put my hands down on his ass, gently pushing him deeper inside. I looked up and saw the smile on his face. I'd never seen him smile like that before.

The pleasure gripped me, unwilling to let me go, and I surrendered to it. It raced through my veins like fire, burning, making my beg for more. I moved my hands up to clutch his back, never wanting it to end. My breath came in short gasps, my body covered in sweat.

A blissful eternity later, we climaxed, holding onto each other. I didn't want to let him go, but I knew I had to. When he had at last pried himself from my grip, he laughed. "Had a good time, did you?" he teased.

"Am I that transparent?" I rolled over, eying him as he slipped back into his clothes.

"Not at all." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "I'd love to stay and go another round, but I've got to get to work. This," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of notes, "is for you."

"Keep it." I shook my head.

"What?"

"Consider a thank you for all that you've done for me this week."

"You already paid me for that." He shoved the notes back at me. "Take them."

"Fine." Sighing, I grudgingly accepted the money. "Thank you."

"Thank you." He cupped my cheek in his palm for a second before leaving.

I watched him go, the man who had saved my life in so many ways. I owed him so much. I'd have to repay him some day.

A smile lingering on my face, I was putting my bra back when my mobile chirped. Snatching it up, I picked up. "Hello?"

"Is this Belle?" It was an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes?"

"I'll be in town tomorrow and I'd like to book you for two hours."

"Great!" I snatched a pen up and opened my diary.

"I'll be staying at Gainsborough."

"All right." I wrote it down. "What time?"

"Say, four?"

"Perfect. And what's your name?"

"Nathan."

"All right, Nathan. I'll see you tomorrow at four."

"I can't wait."

I was just closing my diary when the phone rang again. Another booking. I guess my slump's over!

* * *

**Next Time: **Belle has a booking with Ashok, but the happy reunion is spoiled by tragic news. Hannah meets Ben's new girlfriend.


	6. Chapter 6

**Previously: **Over lunch, Ben confessed to Hannah that he was opening his own bar and that he had a new girlfriend: Gwen. Hannah promised to attend the opening and meet Gwen.

* * *

Chapter Six

**Hannah**

You would think that someone who sells her body for a living would be the most confident person alive. That she'd be comfortable in her own skin and wouldn't give a fuck what people think of her Unfortunately, this isn't true for me. Tonight is the night that Ben's opening his bar, and the night I'm going to finally meet his new girlfriend. I've heard that Gwen is totally gorgeous. I don't know why, but I'm bloody terrified.

Maybe it's because she's the first girl that he's dated since we broke up. I don't want her to be prettier than me, and I don't want her to make me look bad, but at the same time, I want her to be perfect. I want Ben to have the best life and the best girlfriend. She'd better not be a bitch.

I glanced over at the clock and groaned in frustration. I was running fifteen minutes late. I'd gotten a little too involved with a client and now my whole evening was fucked up. There was no possible way that I was going to make it to the opening on time, which, of course, will make me look like the worst friend in history; late to my best mate's big night. That'll for sure leave a good impression on Gwen. And why do I care so much what she thinks of me?

I finished putting on mascara and slammed the tube down. I had to go or I'd be so late that it couldn't even be classified as 'fashionable.' And I hadn't had the foresight to call ahead and have a cab waiting for me. I was going to have to hope that there was at least one cab in the area. If not, I'd have to walk across town…in heels. I slipped into some black spike heels and clomped down the stairs, keeping a careful hand on the banister in case I lost my footing and fell. At the speed I was going, it was highly probable.

I shut the door behind me and froze in my tracks, a smile tugging at my lips. A cab was idling on the street. _Oh, Ben. _I scampered over and jumped into the back. As soon as the door was shut, the driver accelerated. The sudden motion rocked me so hard that I almost fell off the seat. "Easy, mate," I chided, buckling my seatbelt.

"Sorry, Miss." The driver caught my eye in the rear-view mirror.

I dug through my bag for my mobile. I probably should have called Ben earlier, but I'd been so rushed to get out the door that it hadn't crossed my mind. He was going to kill me, but at least I was showing up. Right? After a few rings, he answered. "You're late," he said. His tone was light despite his words.

"Yeah, sorry. I got a little tied up with work."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"A little of both." I giggled. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I know that you're fashionably late to everything."

"You know me so well."

"I do have one question, though."

"What?"

Ben chuckled. "How is it that you can't get anywhere on time to save your life when it's on your off-time, but when you're working you always manage to arrive right on time?"

"It's just a gift, I suppose. Thanks for the cab, by the way"

"Yeah. You're paying me back for that."

"Of course."

"All right. I'll see you in a few, then."

"Bye."

I disconnected and put my phone back in my handbag. The driver was going so fast that I knew we would get to the bar in no time. I pulled out a compact and checked my make up. Everything was still flawless. "We're almost there, Miss," the driver announced.

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, the driver rolled to a stop in front of Ben's bar. I handed him a roll of notes and got out, heaving my bag up onto my shoulder. I wanted to be there for Ben, but the thought of meeting his new girlfriend had my stomach twisted up into knots. What if we didn't get along? What if convinced Ben to stop seeing me? I couldn't lose my best friend again, not after I'd finally gotten him back. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I went inside.

Immediately I was swept up in the bright lights and opulent architecture. The bar was stainless steel, the fixtures imported from Italy. It almost reminded me of the hotel room back in Crete. How the hell had Ben afforded top of the line appliances? Bartenders don't make that much. I wove through the crowd of strangers, keeping an eye out for Ben.

I spotted him standing by himself in the corner. Taking one last look in my compact, I crossed the room, my eyes never leaving him. His back was to me and he was completely unaware of my presence. Suddenly feeling infantile, I put my hand over his eyes. "Guess who?" I asked.

"Hannah." He laughed and turned around to face me.

"Surprise."

"I'm glad you came."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," I assured him. "So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing much. Just my boring opening speech."

I pretended to wipe sweat from my brow. "Thank God for that."

"Shut up!"

"You're the one who said it was boring," I reminded him.

"I guess I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah." I grabbed a flute of something off of a passing tray. "You did really well for yourself, Ben."

"You think?" I could tell by his tone that he was being serious. My approval meant the world to him.

"Yes. It's fabulous. How on earth did you afford all this?'

Ben cleared his throat. "I had a little help," he confessed.

"From who?"

"From me."

The unfamiliar voice brought me back around. It belonged to a gorgeous black woman. Gwen? She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen with a thin physique and a nice, round bum. Her breasts were plump, too. No wonder Ben liked her. She looked like she'd just stepped off of a runway in Paris. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, smiling warmly. "I'm Gwen."

"Nice to meet you." I shook her hand, taking an instant liking to her. "I'm…"

"Hannah, I know. Ben's told me all about you."

"It's not all true," I joked.

"Sure it is," Ben insisted.

"What kind of lies have you been telling her about me, Benjamin?" I knew that he wouldn't have told her my secret. If anything, Ben was the trustworthiest person in my life. That's why he'd been the first person that I had told my secret to. Of course, I hadn't planned on telling anyone else, but as always, things hadn't gone as I'd planned.

Gwen laughed. "I've heard nothing but good things about you, Hannah. Ben here has a very high opinion of you."

"The feeling is mutual." I caught Ben's eye. He was blushing scarlet.

"Excuse me," he muttered, disappearing.

"Oh. Poor dear. He's all worked up about tonight," Gwen intimated.

"I don't know why. Look at this turn out." I waved out at the throng of people drinking and spending money. "This party couldn't get any better."

"I know, but that's not why he's nervous."

"Oh." I frowned. "What is it, then?"

"It's you and I?"

"You and I?" I spluttered. "Why is worried about you and I?"

Gwen shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because you're so important to him. He wants us to get along."

"Well, his last girlfriend, Vanessa, she and I never got along. I tried, but she was jealous of me."

"I can see why."

"Oh, come off it. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? I would kill for your bum. And your tits."

"Thank you." She beamed. "And I'd kill for your legs."

"Thanks." I could feel myself blushing. "So, what has he told you about me? Exactly?"

Gwent cleared her throat. "Everything. You dated at university, broke up but stayed best mates."

"Uh huh," I pressed.

"You gave dating another try a couple months ago, but it didn't work out."

"Did he tell you why it didn't work out?"

"Not really. He just said you wanted different things. And that you were really focused on your career."

"That's true."

"I'm sorry, what is it you do again?" Gwen inquired.

"I'm a nighttime legal secretary."

"Oh." She nodded. "Is that good work, then?"

"It can be…I mean, it takes a lot of dedication and hard work. But the pay's worth it."

"How do you make." She laughed nervously. "If you don't mind my asking."

"No, not at all." I shrugged. "Per anum? About…" I tried to calculate it in my head. I've never really been good at math. I practically failed the maths portion of the GCSE. Thankfully, I excelled in English and Arts. "Um…somewhere in the ballpark of a hundred thousand."

"Wow." She whistled appreciatively. "Not bad."

"And what is it you do?"

"I'm in advertising."

"Shit." I giggled. "That's not half bad, either."

"No." She nodded. "Can I just say that I think it's wonderful that you and Ben are so close even after two failed attempts at a relationship? I mean, I've tried to whole friends thing with some my exes and it just doesn't work. But you and Ben…"

"We love each other very much," I confessed.

"I hope you don't think that I'm trying to come between you or anything…"

I waved it off. "God, no. Ben and I are just friends. And I'm happy for him. He seems to really care about you. Gwen. And as long as he's happy, I'm happy."

"Thanks, Hannah."

"What for?"

"For not being the ex-girlfriend/best mate from hell."

"You're welcome."

"And also for being so nice. To be honest, I was a little nervous about meeting you tonight."

"Me, too," I admitted, grinning sheepishly. "I was afraid you were going to be some bitch that would take an instant dislike to me and insist that Ben never see me again."

"I'd never do that. The truth is, he may love me, but he'll always love you more. And I wouldn't take that away from him"

I chewed my lip. "Listen, Gwen, I don't think he loves me more than you…"

"It's okay," she insisted. "You've been in his life a lot longer than I have. I expect him to have loyalties to you."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're like, the most understanding girlfriend ever?"

"I have been told that once or twice." She laughed. "I really like you, Hannah."

"I like you, too."

"And I'm hoping that we can be…mates?"

"I'd love that." I clinked my glass against hers. "Any friend of Ben's is a friend of mine."

Ben came back, eying us suspiciously. "Are you two getting along all right?" he asked.

"Of course." Gwen leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Hannah and I are practically best mates already."

"It's true." I hid my smile behind my glass.

"And here I thought I was going to have to pull you two off each other."

"What exactly did you have in mind?" I teased.

"Hair pulling, scratching…"

"Only in your fantasies." I grinned mischievously. Ben's lips twitched into a smile. It was nice to know that I didn't have to worry about Gwen coming between Ben and I. I knew that Ben, Gwen, and I were going to be great friends. Maybe one day I'd even be able to tell Gwen my secret. I'd hate to have to keep the secret from another person especially now that my parents knew and accepted it. I didn't want to have to lie and hide anymore.

"Everything all right Hannah?" Gwen asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah." I scoffed. "I just…drifted off for a minute."

"Uh oh, someone's had too much to drink!"

"Not nearly."

Laughing, I grabbed a fresh glass of champagne. "To Ben," I said, raising the glass.

"To Ben," Gwen repeated, holding hers high as well.

"To me."

We knocked our glasses together and broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

A few days later, I was on my way home from an out-call with a client. We'd met at the Hotel and had had two hours of fun. His fantasy was to play Hot Librarian. I'd worn a tweet suit-skirt and nerdy Tenth Doctor-esque specks. Then, I'd ridden him long and hard, bitching all the while about his late fees and how he was going to have work off his debts. He'd loved every minute of it.

Sitting in the back of the cab, I couldn't help but laugh at the memory. It had been a lot of fun and I was looking forward to doing more. Some clichéd fantasies are more fun that you'd expect. I was contemplating this when my mobile rang. I hadn't realized that I had been clutching it tightly in my hand. "Hello."

"Belle." Oh, my God!

"Ash!"

It was Ashok, my favorite client. He'd been my first client, and I usually saw him every second Wednesday. But for the past month or so, he'd been gone away on business. He worked as an advertising executive and often had to jet-set all over the world to land important clients. He made a hell of a lot of money and if his wife were having sex with him he might be spending it on her and not me. He was a close friend, a valued confidante. I'd be lost without him.

"You sound happy." I hear the smile in his voice. God, I'd missed him!

" I am." I bit my lip. "Are you back in London?"

"At last."

"So, are we back on Wednesday?"

"You read my mind."

"I know you so well." I laughed. "The usual time?"

"Great."

"All right." I wrote it down in my diary.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, Belle."

"Me, too."

"I got you a little present."

"You did?" I felt a pang of excitement shoot through me.

"Yes. I'll give it to you on Wednesday."

"I can't wait."

"Me neither." There was a commotion on the other end of the line. "All right, listen. I've got to get going. Important business client."

"Ah."

"I'll see you Wednesday."

"Bye, Ash."

"Bye."

I hung up and squealed with delight. I had missed Ashok so much in the past month and a half that he'd been gone. It had been weird not seeing him every other Wednesday. Now that he was back, life would finally return to normal.

My joy, of course, was increased when I remembered that Bambi was coming over for dinner. I hadn't seen much of her since she and Byron had gotten married and to be honest, I missed her. Sure, she was naïve and a little hyper, but she's also kind and doesn't judge. Plus, she's like a sister to me, much more than my actual sister, Jackie. Bambi is the younger sister I always wanted but never got. I wish I saw her more often, but I understand and she and Byron are trying to start a family and make a life together.

After paying the driver, I went into the house and kicked my heels off. If I was going to play hostess for a couple of hours, I was going to need a little nap beforehand. She was bringing take-out Italian and was due in an hour or so. Just enough time to lie on the couch for a while and rest. I'd been up late last night tossing and turning. If I didn't rest a little, I wouldn't be much company. I get whiny when I'm tired.. Hopefully, she wouldn't bring her Byron. I like Byron and all, but I want this to be a girl's night. And a guy would just complicate things. Don't they always?

I closed my eyes and relaxed against the pillow. Within a few seconds, I was deep asleep.

* * *

I awoke half an hour later, feeling a little better. I stretched and forced myself to stand up. Bambi was usually always on time and I didn't want to have to be scrambling to throw myself together at the last minute.

I went upstairs and slipped out of my slinky crème colored dress. I'd just bought it and had been dying to try it out. It looked amazing on me, accentuating my every dip and curve. I carefully set it off to the side and threw on a pair of jeans and sweater. It was just my friend coming over, no reason to get all done-up. I wasn't going to fuck Bambi, so I didn't give a shit was I looked like.

After running the vacuum and dusting the living room, I had just sat down when I heard Bambi's staccato knocking. I got to my feet went to the door. I opened it and she threw her arms around me. "Hi, Bambi," I said, laughing.

"Hi!" She squeezed tightly.

When she pulled back, I couldn't help but notice that her stomach wasn't flat anymore. She looked to be about four months pregnant. But I didn't say anything; just on the off chance that she wasn't pregnant and had just gained some weight. "So, what's new?" I asked.

"Loads. I packed in escorting."

"Good for you. What are you doing now?" I sat down on the couch, pouring us two glasses of wine.

"Nothing right now, but I'm looking into getting a real job. I'm going to need one." She beamed. "I'm pregnant, Belle."

"Congratulations!" I squeezed her hand supportively. "You look beautiful."

"You think?" She looked down at her stomach. "Not too fat?"

"You look perfect."

"Thanks." She went to take a sip of her wine but set it back down.

"How's Byron taking it?" I inquired, taking her wine glass and pouring its contents into mine.

"Very well. He's so excited. He's insisting that I have the best of everything. Designer maternity clothes." She laughed. " No working until after the baby is born, stuff like that."

"Lucky."

"What about you? What's new in your life?"

I shrugged. "Not much. I'm still escorting, juggling my professional life and my real life."

"And you and Ben?"

"Oh." I grinned. "We're back to the way we were before."

"Before?" Bambi prodded.

"Before we went mad and decided to give a relationship another go. We should've known better. I mean, we love each other and all, but we're not meant to be together as a couple. As long as we stick to mates, everything's wonderful."

"Well, I'm glad you two are getting on again. I saw how upset you were when you weren't speaking."

"Yeah, we're doing great. He's got a new girlfriend…"

"How are you liking that?" She eyed me curiously.

"I'm fine with it. She makes him happy. That's all I can hope for."

"Is she nice?"

"Very. She and I got along nicely."

"Good."

"Yeah. "

We were quiet for a few seconds. "Look, Belle, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure." I knit my brows in confusion.

"And if you say no, that's okay, I'll understand."

"Out with it, Bambi!"

"I want you to be the baby's godmother."

My mouth dropped open. "You want me to…"

"Be godmother, yeah," Bambi affirmed, nodding.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I'm a whore, Bambi. That's hardly a good role model for a child."

Bambi shook her head. "You're a prostitute. It's your job, not who you are. The real you is a kind, caring, and wise woman. And I couldn't ask for a better godmother for my baby."

"Aw, Bambi." I sniffled. "Yes, I'll do it."

"Yes?" she repeated hopefully.

"Yes! I would be honored to be your baby's godmother"

"Thank you!"

Laughing, we embraced again. Maybe there was hope for me still.

* * *

**Belle**

On Wednesday, I awoke feeling more excited than I ever had before in my life. I was finally going to see Ashok again. I wondered how much he had changed since I'd last seen him. Hopefully, he was still as gorgeous as ever. I never could understand why his wife won't have sex with him. I was married to a beautiful man like Ash we'd never leave the bed.

I got out of the cab and could feel my pulse thundering. I was a little nervous. It had been so long since Ash and I had seen each other. What if he decided he was tired of me and went to another escort? What if his wife had found out and she was making him end it? My mind reeled with the possibilities.

As if of their own accord, my feet let me to the lift. I mechanically hit the button for the eight fourth and swallowed past the lump in my throat. I felt the lurch of the lift ascending and took a deep, steadying breath. The bloke next to me eyed me suspiciously. "Motion sickness," I lied, fanning myself. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat loudly. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?" I couldn't resist the urge to undo a few more buttons on my dress, exposing my cleavage.

When the lift arrived at the eighth floor, I got out and followed the corridor until I got to Ashok's door. I hesitated before knocking. Pulling my compact out of my handbag, I opened it and examined my reflection. Not so much as a lock out of place. I snapped it shut and knocked.

I heard his footsteps and then the door opened. His smiling face greeted me. "You look beautiful," he complimented, taking my hand and leading me in.

"Thank you."

We stopped on the other side of the door and hugged. I couldn't help but notice that he'd lost weight, and was it just me or did his skin look a little…sallow? No, it must just be because I haven't seen him in so long. My mind's playing tricks on me. We went further into the room and Ashok held out an envelope. "Your money," he said simply.

"Thanks." I took the money and slipped it into my back. "So, how have you been?"

"Great. And you?" His eyes sparkled.

"Likewise. How was…?" I scrambled to remember where he'd gone.

"America."

"America."

"It was…all right. I didn't really get to go out and see much, to be honest. I was really busy."

"That's what happens when you go on a business trip," I teased.

Ashok chewed his lip. "I missed you," he said, staring into my eyes.

"You did?" My heart swelled.

"More than words can describe. There are no decent prostitutes in the States."

"Shut up!" I playfully smacked his chest. "Go on, then, did you really miss me?"

"Of course, I did." He smiled. "I thought about you all time."

"Me, too. I kept wondering when you were going to get back."

"I know, I'm sorry. I should've called and let you know."

"No, you didn't have to. I'm not your wife."

"Still."

I smiled. "I'm just glad you're back. Business hasn't been the same since you left."

"I doubt that." Ashok chuckled. "You're a gorgeous woman, Belle. A man would be crazy not to want you. I'm sure you've got plenty of adoring clients."

"But none who are as good to me as you are."

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure you'd manage just fine."

"Don't be so sure."

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest. "So, where's my present? You promised me a gift and I don't see it anywhere," I joked.

"I'd almost forgotten." Ashok rose and went into the bedroom. A few seconds later, he came out carrying a small box. He set it down on the sofa next to me. I stared at it. "Well, go on," he prodded.

With the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning, I tore the box open, throwing the paper over my shoulder. I gasped when my hands settled on the object. I raised it, staring at it intently. It was an intricate gold necklace with diamonds inset. And it was genuine gold. Ashok must have spent a fortune on it. "Oh, Ash…"

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"I love it."

"Here." He took it from me and undid the clasp. I held my hair up as he fit it around my neck. "It looks great on you." I looked in my reflection in the mirror.

"I can't accept this," I whispered.

"Why not?" He frowned.

"It must have cost you a lot of money."

"It did, but it was worth it."

"Why?"

"I wanted you to have something to remember me by."

I turned to face him. "What are you talking about?" I questioned.

"Belle…" He paused, shifting his gaze uncomfortably. "I wasn't really away on business."

"Then, what were you doing?" I felt my stomach twist in trepidation.

Ashok was silent for a moment, building up the courage to tell me what he had to. "I was getting treatment," he confessed finally.

"Treatment? For what?"

"I've got cancer, Belle."

"Oh, no," I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. I couldn't have heard him right. There was no way that Ashok could have cancer.

"The doctor's found a lump on my prostate. They had it biopsied it and it was cancerous."

"Are you all right?"

"I went for chemotherapy. But it was unsuccessful. I've only got a month or so left. Three at the most."

I felt tears welling my eyes. "Ash…"

"Shhh." He cupped my face in his hands. "Don't cry," he soothed.

"Don't cry? You just told me that you're going to die and you expect me not to cry?"

"I understand your frustration, Belle, but I'm okay with it. I've made my peace. I'm ready to go."

"But I'm not!" I screamed, shooting to my feet. I paced the room, my hand raking through my hair. He couldn't be dying. He just couldn't…

Ashok followed me and put his hands on my shoulders. "It's okay."

"Can't the doctors do something?" I demanded. "Like, try radiation again…or something?"

"It's no use. The cancer's spread throughout my body."

"I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me. Even when I'm gone, you'll always have the memories of our time together."

Well, that's not enough for me!"

Ashok sighed. "Please, don't make this harder on me than it already is. There's nothing either one of us can do now. So, we might as well just accept it."

I rested my head on his chest, feeling his arms close around me. It felt good to be held by Ash and breath in his scent. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Give me something to look back on and remember when I'm on my deathbed," he begged, his eyes imploring me.

Forcing my emotions down into the pit of my stomach, I kissed him, gently shoving him back toward the bed. He wanted a goodbye fuck. And I was going to give it to him. I undid the rest of the buttons and let my dress fall to the floor. Ashok's eyes lowered to my breasts. I pulled my push-up bra down and stepped out of my knickers. A grin tugged at his lips.

Sniffling, I continued to kiss him, helping him out of his suit jacket and quickly undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. I ripped his belt off and felt his hard cock. Willing myself to smile, I slid his trousers down and after getting him out of his boxers, I shoved him back onto the bed.

As he rolled a condom on, I slipped my stockings down and kicked my shoes off. When I saw that he was properly protected, I lowered myself down onto him, my back arching. He gasped. "Are you all right?" I asked, halting.

"Yes." He grinned. "I'd just forgotten how good it feels."

I fought back a fresh wave of tears, but forced myself to continue, moving my hips slowly, careful not to hurt him. He grasped my hips, gently guiding me. I felt exultation flow throughout my body, making me forget all about everything. All that mattered was that Ashok and I were together right now and that were having sex, always a pleasant experience.

We continued until we both orgasmed, panting like dogs. I looked over at Ashok and saw that a bit of the glow had returned. If only it could save his life. I rested my head on his bare chest and relished the feel of his warm skin. He held me, neither of saying a word. There was nothing to say. He was only going to get weaker until he died and then that would be it. My favorite client and close friend would be gone. What would I do with myself then?

After awhile, we got out of bed and got dressed. Ashok had to get home to his wife. She kept a pretty close eye on him now that he was ill and he didn't want her to know about me. It would hurt her more than she already was. Even though they hadn't had sex in years, he still loved her very much.

I paused in the doorway, biting my lip to keep it from trembling. He stroked my check lovingly. "Well," he sighed, "I guess this is it."

"Am I ever going to see you again?" My voice quaked.

"I don't think that that would be a good idea. I don't want you to see me when I'm too sick to get out of bed. I'd rather that you remember me like this."

I couldn't fight it anymore and the tears came, blurring my vision. "I'm going to miss you," I sobbed.

"I know." He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. "I'll miss you, too. But anytime you miss me, just wear the necklace. It'll bring back the memories."

"I will," I promised.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." Of course, it wasn't a romantic love, it was a friendly love. A love that, even though Ashok would be gone, would never die. He was my first client and I'd always remember the day that we met and how good he'd been to me over the years.

We stepped apart and I knew that it was now or never. I locked eyes with him, burning them into my mind. He nodded subtly and I forced myself to turn and walk away. I fell apart as the door closed and sobbed uncontrollably. I made it to the lift before I fell to my knees, unable to stand up.

* * *

Three months later…

**Hannah**

One day three months later, I received a letter in the post from Suniti Roychowdurry. I had no idea who Suniti was, but nonetheless opened the letter. It was death announcement. Ashok had passed away yesterday and the funeral was in two days. Apparently he'd had her notify me. I wonder what he'd told her about me.

I spent the rest of the day in bed crying. I was so distraught that I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ashok's face. I imagined him lying in bed, deathly thin, his life hanging by a thread. How his poor wife must have suffered. I wished that she and I could commiserate, but that would open up something that was better left hidden.

The day of the funeral, I'd pulled myself together and went to the funeral. It was an open casket and as I stood before his body, I felt a sense of relief. Relief that Ashok no longer had suffer, that he was finally at peace. I hoped that he was up above watching over me, laughing at the absurdity of some of my clients' demands.

After the ceremony, they lowered his casket into the ground. I stood apart from the rest of the mourners, my face hidden behind a veil. I watched as Suniti – crying – placed a rose on the coffin and was comforted by her family. I had known nothing about the woman for years and now I felt like she and I had a special connection. And did have, we'd both loved the same man.

The crowd cleared out and I remained, unable to leave. I wanted my chance to say goodbye to Ashok. When I was sure that they were all gone, I made my way over to his headstone. I knelt down and pulled my veil back. "Hey, Ash," I said, my voice raw from crying. "I don't know if you can hear me, but it's Belle. I know you're probably up there laughing at me, but I have to do this. I never got the chance to say goodbye to you properly and I guess this is it."

I chewed my lip. "You're very important to me. And you always will be. Just because you're gone doesn't mean that you're not remembered." I pulled the necklace out from behind my shirt. "See? I'm wearing the necklace you gave me. Every time I look down at it, I think of you. And I remember all the laughs we had. You know, I'll never forget the first time we met. I was so nervous because I'd never had sex for money before. But as soon as you opened the door, I immediately knew that everything would be all right. I felt bonded with you right away."

I laughed. "I miss you, Ash. But I know that you're in a better place. Just, save me a seat, will you? I don't want you to go too far without me. We've got plenty of laughs still to share." I brought my hand to my lips, and after kissing the tips of my fingers, I brought the hand to Ashok's headstone. "I'll see you soon," I promised.

I stood and turned to go, but stopped when I saw Suniti standing nearby. "Hi," I said lamely.

"You must be Belle," Suniti surmised.

"Yes." I took a step closer. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Ashok was an amazing man."

"Yes, he was." She smiled. "I miss him very much."

"Me, too."

"He cared about you a lot, Belle," she said, catching my eye.

"I'm sorry?" I feigned ignorance.

Suniti laughed. "I know all about you."

"You do?" I gulped.

"Ashok told me that you were the best secretary he ever had. That you were dedicated and loyal and hardworking. And that he thought of you like a daughter.

"Oh, yes." I forced myself to chuckled. "Well, he was a great boss. He was like a father to me."

"I'm glad."

I stood there for a second, unsure of what else to say. "He'll be missed round the office."

"I'm sure you'll find someone else," Suniti said.

"No one as good as him."

"No, you won't." She smiled warmly at me. "Do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with him?

"No." I shook my head. "He was your husband. I'll just…get going."

"Thank you for coming, Belle. I know it would've meant a lot to him."

"Thanks for inviting me."

Without another word, I walked away. For the first time since our last meeting in the hotel, I thought of Ashok and didn't cry. He wouldn't have wanted me to. He would've wanted me to be tough and brave. He would've wanted me to continue escorting, bringing joy to others as I had to him. And so, I would. Because even though life knocks us down sometimes, we've no choice but to continue. We can only hope that we're making the people who matter most to us happy. And somehow, I knew that Ashok was happy. Very, very, happy.

* * *

In his car, Harry watched Hannah leaving the gravesite. He'd been watching her alot over the months, and he couldn't stand the separation much longer. "Soon, my love," he whispered. "We'll be together soon."

* * *

**Next time: **Hannah's sister Jackie pays a visit. Belle's client is in to Rubber-Clad Nuns. Harry returns and things end tragically.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This chapter is dedicated to my friend Chelsea Gouin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Previously: **Hannah met Ben's new girlfriend, Gwen. Ashok died and Harry continued to watch Hannah - from a distance. Stephanie recommended Belle for friend, Ross. His fantasy was wild, but nothing Belle couldn't handle.

* * *

Chapter Seven

**Hannah**

There are many things I hate in life: getting my taxes done, waxing, HIV testing, my period...but there's nothing I hate more than when my sister Jackie decides to stop by.

For as long as I can remember, Jackie and I haven't gotten along. I think that her hatred for me stems from early childhood. Before I was born, she was the star child, the apple of both mum and dad's eye. But then, I came along and ruined it all for her. I stole dad away and she's never forgiven me for it. Oh, well. That's just one less person I have to lie to.

Jackie called me a few days ago as I was finishing up with a client. She'd said that she wabted to come over for dinner. One thing that I've never been able to understand is if she hates me so much, why does she insist on being a part of my life? Perhaps, it's her passive-aggressive way of getting revenge on me. Nonetheless, I can't say no.

After checking to make sure that my schedule was clear, I agreed to have her over for dinner Tuesday night. It might not be the highlight of my week, but it'll get her off my back for a while. I just hope that she isn't having husband troubles again. The last time that she and her husband Patrick were on the rocks - he'd been cheating - Jackie had shown up at my door with nowhere else to go. I'd grudgingly agreed to let her stay and struggled to keep my secret safe. In the end, I'd succeeded. Barely. Thankfully, she and Patrick had worked things out.

A few hours before dinner, I was with a client. Nothing much out of the ordinary. He was a middle-aged bloke who had recently retired and in an effort to feel young and powerful, had booked me. The sex was tedious - standard missionary - but satisfying nontheless. And he gave me a great tip. He'd said that he would ring to book me again, which is always good for me. I can never have too many regulars.

As soon as I got home, I jumped in the shower. I didn't think it appropriate it to have my sister over for dinner with some bloke's sex sweat all over me. Then again, it might get her to leave...Nah. Even I wouldn't do that.

I got out of the shower and dried off. I had just under an hour until Jackie's broom landed. I decided not to bother doing my hair and makeup. It's just my sister. I'm not going to fuck her, so what do I care? I threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans. I knew that my casual appearance would piss off Jackie, but I couldn't resist. And I knew that she would do everything in her power to push my buttons as well. It was how we socialized.

I ordered take-out Chinese and opened up a bottle of wine. I've never been much in the kitchen. I hate cooking and my culinary skills are so bad, they're laughable. When I got my first flat, I'd insisted on hosting Ben's birthday party. I'd been determined to make him a cake instead of paying a fortune to have one made. I'd slaved over my cake, following all the directions to a T. In the end, it had been a disaster: nothing but a hard, lumpy mess. Since then, I'd vowed to keep my indevors in the kitchen as few as possible. One of the pleasures of being a single woman is that I don't have to cook for anyone but myself, so I can just order-in or stick to simple things.

I was just setting the wine glasses out when I heard the doorbelle. "Shit," I whispered, sighing. Typical Jackie. Half an hour early. I should've known. I'd secretly been hoping that she'd change her mind and stand me up. Apparently, the Fates weren't on my side. Forcing myself to smile, I crossed the room and opened the door.

Jackie was standing on the porch, a bitchy smirk on her face. _Great, _I thought. _She's not even been here a minute and I've already pissed her off. _"Hi, Jackie," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Hannah." Jackie stepped aside to reveal her young son, Ollie. I haven't seen Ollie since last Christmas, and he'd certainly grown. He was about three now, and he definitely looked it. He had long, strawberry blond curls and deep, penetrating blue eyes. I have to admit, he's a cute kid. Too bad his cunt of a mother is raising him to think he's better than everybody else. His cuteness wears thin after his true, bratty nature reveals itself.

I turned back to face Jackie. "You brought Ollie," I said as politely as possible. I could already imagine my expensive decor being destroyed. Juice spilled all over my white carpet. See, this is why I don't have children. I'm far too materialistic to be a good mum, that and the fact that I'm selfish and like my sleep.

"Of course I did, Hannah," Jackie replied, her voice dripping with venom. "Have you got a problem with that?"

"No," I lied, shrugging. "It's just that I only ordered enough Chinese for you and I, so..."

"Oh, Ollie doesn't eat Chinese. It has MSG in it."

"Oh, right." I have no idea what the fuck MSG is, but figured it was best to play along. "How silly of me."

Without another word, Jackie pushed her way past me, dragging Ollie along behind her. "It's so nice of you to _finally _have me over to see your new place, Hannah. I didn't get to see much last time before you shoved me out the door." Her smile was wicked, catty.

I cleared my throat. "It's just that I've been so busy with work and everything..." I sat down and poured out two glasses of wine. I downed mine and refilled it, then set one before Jackie and, with a snarky half-smile, she sipped it.

Ollie wandered off to amuse himself and Jackie leaned forward conspiratorially. "Ben's not around now, is he?" she asked, looking around. While she and Patrick had been separated, Jackie and Ben had hooked up a few times. Jackie had romanticized it, but to Ben, it was just sex. In the end, he told her that he wasn't looking for a relationship, and Jackie had left in a huff, furious. She still hadn't forgiven him.

I shook my head. "Ben and I aren't together anymore," I confessed.

Jackie snorted. "Did he realize after stringing you along that he wasn't on the market for a girlfriend?" She downed her glass of wine.

"No." I shook my head. "I broke up with him."

"Ah." She nodded understandingly. "Caught him with another woman?"

"No."

"A man?"

"No!"

"Then what?" She was deriving some sick pleasure from all of this. I could tell by the evil gleam in her eyes. I should have known better than to make a friendly gesture toward her. Jackie is a bitch, plain and simple. Nothing would ever change that.

I sighed, looking down at my feet. "He felt that my job was coming between us and gave me an ultimatum: my job, or him. I chose my job."

"Good for you. Never give up your job for a man. He'll never appreciate it. It'll only cause resentment." Are we speaking from experience? Bitter about giving up your job at a big corporation to marry a tosser?

"Is everything all right, Jackie?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. She was being extremely bitter, even for her.

"Patrick and I are getting divorced," she confessed.

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He's a useless bastard. Always has been, always will be. Did you know that he doesn't even take care of Ollie anymore? It's all my job!"

"Wow. So…was he cheating again, or..."

"What do you think? Of course, he's cheating again. He's nothing but a disgusting, chauvinistic pig. I should have known better than to marry him."

I couldn't help but get a little barb in. "I thought he was 'the love of your life?' That's what you said at your wedding."

"Well, I was wrong, wasn't I?" she snapped. "He's nothing but a prick. I'm just glad I realized it before it was too late."

"Yeah."

"I've already told mum and dad. They've agreed to let Ollie and I stay with them until the divorce is finalized. Patrick's giving me the house, but I can't stay there until he's gone."

"Why not?"

"He's….enjoying it with his new girlfriend, Amy."

"Bastard."

"So, it's back to mum and dad's for now. They kept my old room in tact for me, thank God."

"That's good."

"Well, living with mum and dad isn't exactly my ideal living situation, but I don't have anywhere else to go." Her eyes were burning into me, guilting me.

"I'd invite you and Ollie to stay here with me, but..." I scrambled to find an excuse. Termites? Black mold?

"Don't worry, Hannah. After our last stay together, I wouldn't want to impose. I know how much you love your...private time."

When Jackie had last stayed with me, she had stumbled across my dildo collection. They were technically for work, but, desperate to keep my secret safe, I'd let her believe that I'm a sex maniac who loves to masturbate. That's better than the truth, right? "I sure do." I chuckled nervously.

Jackie sniffed. "The last time I talked to mum and dad, they wouldn't shut up about you. All they could talk about is how proud they are of you and how tough your job is. You know, all they used to be able to talk about is how disappointed they were of you. You went to university to get a degree in English and you're wasting your life, Hannah. And the thing I don't get is, what's so tough about being a nighttime legal secretary? I mean, sure it's got it's downsides, but so does every other job."

I chewed my lip. Maybe I should come out and tell her the truth. After all, what's the worst that can happen? She'll never speak to me again? On second thought... "The truth is, Jackie, I'm not really a nighttime legal secretary. I never have been."

"Oh." She quirked an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving mine. "Let me guess, you work for Scotland Yard. No, no, better yet. MI-5. Are you like Jennifer Garner on _Alias?_" She was mocking me. Cunt.

"I wish." I chuckled. "I'm a prostitute." I met Jackie's gaze, trying to gauge her reaction. Her face remained unmoving.

It was quiet for a mnute and then she snickered. "Yeah, right, Hannah. Come off it. Let's be honest, your not quite cute enough to be a prostitute. I mean, look at your body. Your tits are all right, but they're so…tubular. And your arse is nothing to write home about"

Oh, really? Biting my lip to refrain from speaking, I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, and turned it on, opening up my website. I set it down on Jackie's lap. Her eyes roamed the page and her mouth dropped open. "See?" I said.

"You weren't kidding," she whispered, her eyes wide in shock.

"No," I answered simply.

Jackie looked at me as though I were a complete stranger. "You're disgusting!" she hissed, shooting to her feet. "Filthy!"

"Tell me how you really feel," I muttered, shaking my head.

"How can you...degrade yourself like that? Mum and dad raised us better than that!"

"It's not degrading. It's actually quite empowering..."

"Stop! I don't want to hear anymore!" She clapped her hands to her ears.

I scoffed. "Well, you have to, Jackie, cos I'm telling you the truth. I'm a prostitute. This is who I am. It may not be what everyone else does, but it makes me happy. I love it."

"You're a filthy whore!"

"That's just semantics..."

"Do mum and dad know?"

"Yeah."

"And they're proud of the fact that their daughter is nothing but a disease-ridden whore?"

For some reason, I'm not quite sure why, that stung. I felt my blood start to boil and rose to my feet, my jaw clenched. "I may be a disease-ridden whore, Jackie, but at least I've never been cheated on. Because I actually know how to please a man. I''m not a frigid bitch like you!"

Jackie's hand snaked out and connected with my cheek with a loud CRACK! It rang throughout my head, making me stumble a ittle. I took a step back, my hand flying to my stinging cheek. "Get out!" I barked, picking up Jackie's purse and throwing it toward the door. "And don't come back. Have a nice time living with mum and dad, I know you'll make them proud."

"I'm already gone." She picked up Ollie, who'd been happily watching TV, and stormed out. "I can't believe you'd say that to me, Hannah. Me, your own sister. How could you?"

I heard the door slam shut behind her and then a deafening silence. Typical Jackie, making it all about her. How could I call her a frigid bitch who doesn't know how to please a man? Ha. How could my own sister call me a disease-ridden whore? I hadn't imagined even Jackie capalble of that. What got to me the most was that I actually cared what she thought of me.

I snatched up the bottle of wine and took a greedy gulp. I needed something to calm me down. I'd just succeeded in driving my sister even further away. _Who cares? _I thought. _You don't need people like her in your life. Besides, she'll get over it, she always does. _Willing myself to believe it, I took another drink. I had a few days off and it didn't matter that I'd be drunk before the night was out. After all what did other people do when they desteroyed their relationships with their family?

* * *

**Belle**

A few days later, feeling much better, I met an old client for a booking. Ross and I had first met several months earlier. He'd had me dress up like a priest while he dressed up like choir boy...and then I 'molested' him. Strange fantasy, I know, but it takes all kinds, He'd promised to call me th enext time he was in London. I can't wait to see what his fantasy will be this time.

He had a room booked at the same hotel as last time, and I expertly navigated my way through the posh hotel. Some of the staff recognized me from my frequent visits and glared at me disapprovingly. I smiled in return. They know what I'm up to, and I know that they know. Thankfully, prostitution is legal in England.

I knocked gently on the door and squared my shoulders. The key to being a successful escort is to appear confident and in charge at all times. You have to be in chage, otherwise, you set yourself up for trouble. Thankfully, I've been able to avoid too much trouble in my five years as a sex-worker.

The door opened and I was greeted with Ross's beaming smile. "Belle!" he exclaimed in his Scottish brogue, his arms out wide.

"How are you?" I stepped into the embrace, burying my face in his chest+.

"Great. And you?"

"Never better." I kissed him on both cheeks. "It's lovely to see you again."

"You, too. I'm sorry it's been so long."

"It's okay."

He led me into the room, closing the door behind me. "Work's been mad and I haven't been able to get away." He handed me the envelope of cash and I discreetly dropped it into my handback.

"Thanks. Maybe you should consider switching jobs." I accepted a glass of champagne. "I get to travel all over the world. And the best part is, it's totally free."

"Really?" He arched an eyebrow.

"The client pays for everything," I iterated.

"You are a lucky girl!"

"I know." I grinned.

Ross set his champagne aside, all business. "I have something very special planned for us," he said, his eyes alight with childish joy.

"What is it?" I aksed, laughing gaily.

"It's nothing as...bizarre as last time."

"I had a lot of fun last time," I lied.

Ross cleared his throat. "Growing up, my parents forced me to attend Catholic school. Theyr'e both devout Catholics. I, personally, find the whole thing ridiculous. But for some reason, all of my fantasies involve religious figures."

"You might want to get that checked out," I teased.

"Since you fulfilled my choir boy fantasy, I think it's time we moved on to the next one."

"I can't wait."

"Have you ever heard of Rubber-Clad Nuns?"

"No."

"You dress up in a skin-tight rubber jumpsuit..."

"Sounds good..." Not really.

"With a gasmask."

"Uh huh." Even worse. `

I thought the last fantasy was fucked up, but this one...there's nothing remotely sexy about it. But still, Ross is a paying client, and what the client wants...

I smiled politely. "It sounds like we're in for some fun."

"I hope so." He laughed. "I put your costume in the loo. So, whenever you're ready..."

"I'm ready now." I set my drink down and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Turning on the light, I saw the rubber jumpsuit hanging from the shower rod.

Sighing, I slipped out of my dress, kicked my heels off, and took the jumpsuit off of the rack. I put one foor in and then the other, tugging the suit up. Now, I've never really been a fan of rubber or leather. I don't like the feeling of being constricted, but just this once, I'll do it. I just hope to God that Ross's next fantasy doesn't involve anything even remotely close to this.

When I finally had the jumpsuit on, I zipped it up and slipped into the black stiletto boots that accompanied it. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like the dominatrix from Hell. Chuckling to myself, I pulled my hair back into a tight bun and fit the gas mask over my head. Then, I placed the habbot on tip, securing my hair back. Sure, it was bizarre, but if I was going to play the part, I wanted to be perfect.

The discomfort from the rubber was nothing compared to that of the gas mask. I couldn't help but wonder if Ross would find it so sexy if he were the one dressed up in the uncomfortable costume. Something told me that he would. Ross was bizarre, but he was nice and payed well. Two of my favrotie attributes in a client.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I turned the light out and opened the door. Ross was lying on the bed in nothing but his knickers. I could see his erection straining against the cotton from clear across the room. Apparently, he was really turned on. I posed in the doorway, jutting out my hips sensually.

Ross grinned. "You look so hot," he said, rising to kneel expectantly on the bed. "I can't wait to fuck you."

"Feel free," I replied, my voice distorted within the gasmask. For fuck's sake, I sounded like Darth Vader. Is there anything sexier?

"Not yet." He reached into the pillow and pulled out a set of handcuffs. Oh, Christ. "Tease me first."

"It's my pleasure." I crossed the room and tanked his arms up over his head. He licked his lips hungrily. I secured the cuffs around his wrists and climbed onto the bed, straddling him. "How's that?" I asked.

"Good."

I slowly worked one rubber glove off, dripping it onto the carpet. I reached back and gripped his hard cock through his underwear. I started stroking it, being especially attentive to the head. Ross closed his eyes, sighing pleasurably. His lips twisted up into a half-smile.

After a minute or so, I helped him out of his knickers. Immediately, I went back to my task, enjoying the feeling of skin-on-skin. I quickened my pace a little, just enough to being him closer. I felt a drop of precum roll down my hand and smiled. Ross was excited. Apparently he found Rubber-Clad Nuns exciting.

I shifted down, removing the gasmask and took him into my mouth. He gasped and pulled against his restraints. I moved my lips up and down slowly, my tongue tracing up and down the shaft, tickling the soft underside of head. I worked a hand around to tickle his anus.

The sound of a loud banging at the door caused me to cease my actions. I looked up at Ross questioningly. "Get rid of them," he pleaded, wanting to get back to it."

"Back in a minute." I hopped off the bed and went through the main room to the door. I had opened it just a crack, when the person on the other side shoved it all the way open.

"Where is he?" she demanded, glaring at me.

"Who?"

"Ross. My husband."

"Your...?" Shit!

"Fuck!" Ross groaned.

The woman followed Ross's voice into the bedroom and gasped. "What the hell is this?" she demanded.

Ross's face flushed scarlet. "It's not what it looks like, Bree..."

"It's not?" Bree put her hands on her hips. "You're not handcuffed to the bed with some..." She looked back at me, her eyes burning with disgust. "Whore?"

"Come on, Bree..."

"No. You've done this to me for the last time, Ross."

"Bree, please, I love you!"

"Then why are you here with another woman?"

"Because I'm embarrassed!"

"Of what?"

Ross sighed. "Of my bizarre fantasies. I was too ashamed to ask you to fulfill them, so I figured that this was the best way to sow my wild oats..."

"This is a new low, even for you." Bree sighed disgustingly. "Get up and let's go. My mother's waiting with the kids down in the lobby."

I stood there watching the exchange quietly. Bree was an attractive woman, sure she wasn't stick-thin and had real curves, but her sparkling green eyes were mesmerizing. I hoped that Ross and Bree would be able to work things out. "Well, I'd better go," I muttered, backing away.

"I'd say that's a good idea, yeah." Bree didn't even look at me.

I caught Ross's eye and ducked into the bathroom. I quickly changed into my regular clothes and slipped out. On my way out the door, I heard Ross and Bree crying in the bedroom.

* * *

**Hannah**

Once in the lobby, I felt my pulses relax. There's nothing quite like a confrontation with a client's wife to get your pulse hammering. I took a deep breath and made my way to the door.

Outside, the sun was almost down, the sky a brilliant pink. I hailed a cab and got in. The driver asked me where I was going and after giving him my address, I called Ben. "Hello," he said, sounding chipper.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Good. How are you?" It felt good to hear his voice.

"I'm having a shitty day. Do you want to come round for drinks or something?"

Ben sighed. "I wish I could, but Gwen and I..."

"Please?" I begged.

"All right." He laughed. "You know how to get what you want."

"And I'm very good at it. See you in a bit."

"Bye."

Before I knew it, I was home. I paid the driver and went in. I threw my purse down on the table and went upstairs to take a quick bath. I went into my bedroom and switched on the light. I gasped. Standing before me was Harry. "Harry!" I gasped, my hand flying to my chest.

"Hello, Belle," He said casually.

"You scared me. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"How did you get in?"

"I had a key made."

I felt my heart start to thump against my ribcage. Apparently, Harry hadn't gotten over me. And his stalkerish tendencies were back. "You need to leave," I said, trying to sound authoratative.

"Why, Belle? I thought we could catch up." He stood, coming closer to me.

"I said leave!" I exclaimed, shoving him back.

I saw anger flash in Harry's eyes before he pulled me into his arms, trying to kiss me.

"No!" I struggled in his arms, trying to get free.

Harry shoved me back onto the bed. "Come on now, Belle, is that any way to treat an old friend?" he asked, advancing toward me.

"Harry, please!" I begged, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Just go."

"Not until I get what I came for."

"You need to leave. Now. Ben's on his way over and if you're here when he gets here…."

"Don't worry. I'll be long gone by the time he gets here."

He lowered himself down on top of me, crushing my mouth with his. I worked hand free and gouged at his cheek. He pulled back, a trail of blood dripping down his face. "You bitch!" His fist crashed into my face and my vision wavered. My head drooped back and the room started spinning.

I felt Harry tearing at my clothes, but I was tired, and he was too strong. There was a sudden pain and then I felt Harry moving inside of me. I cried out, the sound deafening in my ears. Harry clapped a hand over my mouth. "Shhh. You'll enjoy it, just wait," he whispered, moving his hips quickly.

I tried to wiggle out from under him, but his weight kept me pinned to the bed. The pain seared through me and I felt myself detach. My mind went blank and time dragged on, limitless. Even through my detachment, I could feel the pain of his movements. My hands lay limply by my sides, useless. I was utterly and completely useless.

Harry quickened his pace and his breath came out in gasps. He groaned loudly and with one final thrust, climaxed. Not wasting a moment, he pulled out. The next thing I knew, he was standing again, zipping his trousers back up. "I'll be back, Belle," he promised, leaning down to kiss me. "Soon."

I heard his foosteps receding and then silence again. I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes unseeing. My world had just been shattered in a hopeless insant. What am I going to do?

* * *

**Next Time: **After her brutal rape, Hannah must decide whether or not to pack in escorting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Previously: **Hannah came home to find Harry waiting for her. He tried to get fresh with her and after trying to fight him off, she got punched and brutally raped.

* * *

Chapter Eight

Hannah

There are things that happen in life that change who we are. That shake us to our core. And once one of these things has happened, we can never go back. Sometimes, it's something good, like meeting that person who captures your heart. But sometimes, it's something bad. Horribly, terribly, bad.

Last Thursday, I'd been glad to be home after a long, hard day. Things with Ross hadn't gone as I'd hoped - his wife had burst in on us and ruined it all - but drinks with Ben would make up for that. I hadn't been prepared for what happened next.

Harry Keegan, an ex-client/potential boyfriend/stalker had slipped into my flat and waited for me. When I'd come home, he'd tried to sweet-talk me, seduce me. I'd tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. And...he raped me. I'd never been raped before, and now, knowing what it's like, I understand why it's such a devasting event.

Being raped is one of the worst things that can happen to a woman. You feel helpless, like you're not even in control of your own body. And then there's the pain. The excruciating, blinding pain - both physical and mental - I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Even my worst enemy.

Ben had come round (I'd invited him over for drinks) and found me lying bloodied on my bed. He'd rushed me to the hospital, where they'd examined me. I'd been fortunate enough to not have a broken nose, but there had been some vaginal tearing. No more sex for me, not for awhile anyway. They'd done a rape kit, but there were no traces of semen, so Harry was going to get away. I told the officer, Inspector Dhillon that I'd known the man who had raped me. She'd been skeptical at first, but when I'd insisted, she'd grudgingly promised to take him in for questioning.

Ben had stayed with me that night, keeping a protective arm around me as I slept. I couldn't help but think back to when we'd been together and happy...No! He's with Gwen now. There's no way that I'm going to ruin that for him. He deserves a happy life with a wonderful woman. And that'll never be me.

Harry was taken in for questioning, but without sufficient evidence, he'd walk. I just hoped that he wouldn't come back for me. Just to be safe, I had all of the locks replaced and bought a cricket bat. If Harry somehow managed to get in, he'd be surprised because there is no way in hell that I'm going to be a victim ever again.

I went through my diary and called all of my upcoming clients. I had to cancel all of my bookings. There's no way that I'm up to work right now. I'm handing it all surprisingly well, but the thought of sex...I just can't do it right now. Funny, a whore who can't have sex. How the hell did I get here?

One afternoon, I was having a hot cup of tea, when I heard the buzzer go off. Instantly, I felt my heart start to race, threatening to break through my ribcage. I swallowed past my dry throat and grabbed a butcher knife from the cupboard. I slowly made my way into the foyer, holding the knife aloft. I peered through the glass and felt myself relax. It was Stephanie.

I opened the door and shamefully hid the knife in the waistband of my jeans. "Hey, Stephanie," I said, shuffling my feet nervously. I hadn't had much contact with people since the incident.

"Hi, Belle." She smiled tightly. "Mind if I come in?"

"No." I held the door open for her. "Come in."

"Thanks." She led the way into the living room.

"Can I get you something? Tea? Milk? Water?"

"Nothing for me, thanks." She sat down on the sofa. I joined her, folding my feet under me. Stephanie cleared her throat, nervously fidgeting with the hemming of her jacket. "I heard about what happened, Belle," she said, meeting my gaze. I started to twist my hair into knots, my fingers acting of their own accord. "I'm so sorry."

I looked up into Stephanie's eyes and saw that she was genuinely sorry for what had happened to me. Regardless of our differences in the past - no mater how big or small - Stephanie was a true friend. And I don't have many of those in my life. "Thanks," I said, trying to smile.

"It's all my fault," Stephanie continued. "I never should have given him your name."

"You couldn't have known."

"That he was psyhcotic? Oh, I knew. I just never thought that he would..." She trailed off, casting her eyes downward.

"It's an occupational hazard," I reminded her, my tone light. I didn't blame her at all. I could've turned Harry away from the start, but I hadn't. If anyone was to blame for this whole fiasco, it was me.

"Well, it shouldn't be. And you certainly wouldn't have to worry about it if..."

"If...?" I pressed, knitting my brows.

Stephanie sighed. "Look, Belle, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you're the best escort I've ever had and even though you can be a pain in my ass...I'd like it if you were to come back and work for me."

My jaw dropped open. "What?" I managed, my mind reeling. I'd never imagined that I'd see the day that Stephanie would ask me to come back and work for Discreet Elite. I'd figured that she'd enjoyed being rid of me and that she had found some other girl to fill my place. But maybe she hadn't.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Stephanie grumbled. "I can guarantee you that nothing like this will ever happen to you again."

"I appreciate the offer, Stephanie, but I'm not sure I'm up for it."

"Oh, come on. I'll only take thirty-five percent..."

"I don't mean working for you. I mean...escorting. After what happened, it just doesn't...sound right anymore."

"Belle, this is who you are. You can't just turn your back..."

My temper flared. "It's not who I am, Stephanie. It's what I do. And who are you to tell me what I should be doing with my life? I'm not your daughter. You want to run someone's life, go find Poppy. God knows she could use some guidance."

Stephanie's eyes widened, but she remained silent for a minute. "I understand that what happened to you is very upsetting and that you'll need some time. Just think about it and if you change your mind, you know where to find me." She stood and grabbed her clutch. "Take care of yourself, Belle."

Without another word, she left, her heels clacking all the way to the door. When I heard the door click shut behind her, I locked it, making sure that it was fully latched before I went and sat back down. Who the hell did Shephanie think she was to tell me what to do with my life? She didn't know me, not really. All she cared about was making money.

Sighing, I went upstairs. I hadn't cleaned the house in over a week and dust was starting to pile up. Plus, the trash got collected the following morning and if I didn't want it to lie around for another week, I'd probably better get it out now before I got too tired and ignored it. I grabbed the bag from the bathroom and bin and went into my room. I keep a small bin by the bedside just in case. You never know what I'm going to encounter in my line of work.

I pulled the bag free, tearing the plastic. All of the contents spilled out onto the floor. "Shit," I cursed, kneeling down the clean it up. Thankfully, it was mostly tissues and papers - nothing to stain the carpeting. I picked up piles of trash and threw it into the other bag. I stopped when I saw a wadded up tissue with what appeared to be a condom in it.

I hadn't had sex with a client at home in over two weeks...so, where had the condom come from? Then it hit me. Harry! He'd used a condom when he'd raped me so that there would be no evidence. And then, he'd stashed it away in my bin hoping that I would just throw it out and never know the difference.

I grabbed my mobile off of the bedside stand and fishing Inspector Dhillon's card out of my bag, I punched in her number. The phone rang a few times before she answered it. "Inspector Dhillon."

"Hi, this is Hannah Baxter."

"Oh, yes. How are you holding up?"

"Fine. Listen, I found evidence."

"You did?"

"Yeah. There's a condom in my bin."

"So...?"

"So, I haven't had sex at home in over two weeks." It sounded silly, I know, but she didn't know the truth about what I do. And I'd like to keep it that way.

"I'll be right over."

Twenty minutes later, I heard the buzzer again. I let her in and immediately led the way up to my bedroom. I pointed to the evidence and watched as she crouched down, picked it up with what looked like a pair of tweezers, dropped it into an evidence bag, and sealed it. "Well done, Ms. Baxter," she said, scrutinizing the condom.

"Do you think that's enough to put him away?" I asked, hopeful. If I could put Harry in prison where he belonged, I could finally relax and return to some semblance of a normal life.

"We'll test the sperm and if we find that it does indeed match Harry's, then, yes."

"Wait, how are you going to get a sperm sample from Harry?"

"We'll have to make him give us one," she answered simply.

I nodded and showed her out. "How long until you have the results?"

"A couple of days." She smiled reassuringly. "I'll call you as soon as we know."

"Thank you." I watched her walk back to her car before I shut the door and locked it.

* * *

A week or so later, I was out shopping when I got the call. "Hello?" I asked, my palms suddenly sweaty. It all came down to this. This was my only chance to make Harry pay for what he did for me, and if it failed, I'd have to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder worried that he'd come back and do it again.

Inspector Dhillon cleared her throat. "We've got the results back on the semen sample," she said ambiguously.

"And?" My voice came out as a croak and I gripped the buggy so hard that my knuckles turned white. My pulse thundered in my ears.

"We've got a match. Harry Keegan is the man who raped you."

"Thank God." I sighed, feeling all of the muscles in my body relax. "So, what does this mean?"

"We're going to have to go to court, but it's pretty much in the bag. Harry will spend years in prison."

"But what if he gets away with it?"

"The evidence won't allow that to happen."

"He could say that I'm..."

"What?"

I clamped my mouth shut. I'm not a prostitute anymore. "Nothing. Thank you so much, Inspector Dhillon."

"It was my pleasure."

We disconnected and I threw my mobile back into my handbag. It was almost over.

* * *

One Month Later...

I walked into the packed courtroom, my hands nervously picking at my skirt. It had taken a long time to get here. I looked around, curious at to who had turned up at the trial. I saw Ben and Gwen sitting together, smiling reassuringly. Stephanie sat by herself, talking on her mobile. Bambi -looking so pregnant that she was about to burst - sat with Byron, giving me an encouraging thumbs up. I spotted Charlotte in the front row. She nodded at me. All of my friends were here to support me, even after everything.

I took my seat next to Liam, whom I'd hired as my lawyer. "Don't worry, Belle," he said in my ear. "We'll nail the bastard."

"I hope so." I smoothed my skirt for the thousandth time since putting it on.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little."

"It'll be all right. I talked to the Crown Prosecutor and she more or less assured me that the case would swing in our favor."

"She?"

"Yes. I pulled some strings. Sylvia's helping us out."

So, that's why Liam's so confident. His fiancee is giving us a helping hand. I guess I'll have to go to their wedding after all. "You didn't tell me that Sylvia was going to be here," I said, eying him.

"I wanted to surprise you." He smiled. "I figured that you could use as many friends as possible today."

"Thanks, Liam." I gave him a quick hug. "I owe you one."

The bailiff asked everyone to rise and the judge came in, sitting himself down as quickly as possible. I zoned out as the the judge rambled on about the background of the case. I know that I should have been paying attention, but all I really cared about was knowing whether or not Harry was going to get sent to prison.

I was asked to swear an oath to tell the truth, I happily obliged. Harry was asked to do the same and after locking eyes with me for the briefest second, he acquiesced. In that moment, I felt a chill run down my spine. I never wanted to see him again. I had once found him attractive, dangerously so, but now all I saw was the horrible monster that he hid under the charming facade.

The judge began rambling again and I zoned out, my thoughts scattered. What if Sylvia and Liam weren't able to win the judge over? What if, after everything, Harry walked away scot-free? Surely, he'd be pissed after everything...what if he murdered me out of revenge? Calm down, I commanded myself. This is the real world.

I was brought back to reality when I heard my name being called. I snapped back to attention. The judge was asking for my testimony. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I rose, knees wobbly. "State your name please."

"Hannah Baxter."

"Can you tell the court, in your own words, what transpired on the night of September 15, 2011?"

"Yes." I cleared my throat. "I'd just gotten home from a...business meeting, and I'd invited my friend Ben over for drinks. I went upstairs to freshen up and found Harry Keegan in my room. I told him to leave, but he wouldn't. He tried to kiss me but I pushed him away..." The events of that night flashed through my brain, making my heart race.

"Are you all right, Ms. Baxter?" The judge asked, his brows knit in worry.

"Yeah, sorry." I sniffed. "I tried to get away, but he punched me." I shivered. "And then he threw me on the bed and raped me."

"Thank you, Ms. Baxter."

Sylvia nodded sympathetically and approached the bench. "These are the photographs taken the night of the incident. As you can see, your Honor, there was facial bruising and vaginal back up her story."

"Thanks, Ms Burke." Sylvia moved away from the bench.

Harry was asked to speak in his defense. He stood up and kept his gaze level with the judge. "I'm not going to lie, your Honor. I did it." The room grew completely silent. My head whipped around. He'd just confessed to it all? Just like that? Was he mad?

"What are you doing?" Harry's lawyer hissed.

"What I did was wrong," he continued. "But I love her. And I know that she loves me, too. Giver her time, she'll come round. " Okay, he's completely insane.

The judge nodded. "You are aware, Mr. Keegan, that you just confessed to the crime, yes?"

"Yes," Harry answered simply.

"Then I see no need to continue with the trial. Mr. Keegan, I hereby find you guilty of the sexual assault charges against Hannah Baxter and sentence you to fifteen years imprisonment without parole. Case dismissed."

As the judge cracked his gavel down, I felt all of the tension leave my body. I'd won. Harry was off to prison for at least fifteen years and I had somehow managed to escape with my secret intact. I felt Liam's arms around me and I laughed, elation setting in.

* * *

Later that night, I was hosting a celebration party. I'd done my hair and makeup for the first time in over a month and had to admit that I was looking good. I invited all of my friends over: Ben and Gwen, Stephanie, Liam and Sylvia, Bambi and Byron, and Charlotte. The wine flowed freely and the music blared. We had a lot to celebrate.

After half a dozen or so glasses of wine I was a little tipsy, but it felt good, freeing. I'd been so tense for so long and I hadn't even realized it. I found Bambi at the buffet table and gave her a hug. "Congratulations, babes," she said, smiling broadly.

"Thanks, Bambi. I still can't believe he confessed to it all like that."

"Nor me. What the hell was that about?"

"I dunno." I shrugged. "I guess, in his own sick and twisted way, he loves me."

"Whatever. The guy is an absolute nutter. Thank God he's behind bars now."

"Yeah." I sipped my wine. "So, when are you due?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Not for a few more months." She rubbed her big belly. "Not that you can tell by looking at me. I look rubbish."

"You look beautiful." I stroked her cheek.

"Thanks." She grinned. "Well, I'd better get back to Byron. I'm so happy for you."

"Me, too." I gave her another squeeze.

I watched Bambi fade away and smiled. All of my friends were living the lives they wanted. But what about me? What did I want? I can't lie and say that I haven't missed escorting. But maybe I got raped for a reason. Maybe it was a way to get out of it all before I'm forced out. God, a blessing and not a curse?

I felt a hand on my elbow and turned. A month ago, it would have given me a heart attack, but now, knowing that I'm safe, it didn't bother me. "Ben!"

"Hey, Han." He kissed me on the cheek. "You were amazing today. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." I felt my cheeks flush.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He nodded toward the kitchen.

"Sure." I took his hand and led the way into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say that I am so proud of you, Han."

"What for?"

"For everything. You've overcome so much and it's amazing."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"I don't know about that, but..."

"No, I mean it." I squeezed his hands. "You are the best thing in my life, Ben. I'm so glad that we were able to work things out."

"Me, too. And I'm so glad you finally packed in escorting. Now you can have a real life."

I blinked in confusion. "Packed in escorting? Who said I've packed in escorting."

"Well, I just assumed that after everything, you wouldn't want to go back to it..."

"Look, Ben, I know you don't approve, but I love it. It's the best job in the world. It's fun and exciting and the pay is amazing. I'd be foolish to just throw that all away because of some nutter."

Ben snorted and tapped his foot. "So, that's it, then? You're going to go back? After everything."

"I guess I am," I realized, chewing my lip. "It makes me happy. I love it."

"Okay, then." He shook his head. "I had hoped you'd throw in the towel, but who am I to tell you what to do? If it makes you happy, I say go for it."

"Really?" A beaming smile tugged at my lips. "You approve."

"I suppose."

"Good, cos your approval means the world to me, Ben. You're my best friend and I don't ever want to lose you."

"Me neither." He hugged me close, stroking the back of my head. "Just be careful, yeah? I don't want anything bad to ever happen to you again."

"I will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know just the way. Excuse me."

With one last look over my shoulder at Ben, I went back out into the living room. I spotted Stephanie sitting on the sofa. Smiling, I plopped down next to her. "All right?" I asked.

"Yes." She sipped her drink. "I have to say, you're amazing woman, Belle. Not many people could come back from what you have. You've got balls."

"Thanks...I think." I giggled. "Listen, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" She quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"'I've thought a lot about your offer."

"Which offer?" She was making me work for it. Typical Stephanie.

"To come back and work for you."

"Ah."

"I've decided that if you'll still have me, I'd like to work for you again."

"I see." She was silent for a moment. "Well, considering that I haven't had any better offers, and Rachel's decided to pack it in, I've no choice but to accept your offer." She held out her hand, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "Welcome back to Discreet Elite."

"It's my pleasure." Laughing, I shook her hand. It felt so good to be back.

"Oh, and Belle?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still taking my forty percent."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. It's nice to know that some things never change.

* * *

But there was something I had to before I could resume my normal life. Something that's been tugging at my subconscious. I had to know why Harry had willingly confessed to his crime, knowing full well the punishment that was awaiting him. Perhaps he had figured that in the end, the truth would out and it would be better for him to just confess and get it over with? Or maybe he was more insane than even I'd realized.

Regardless, I had to know, and so, one nondescript day, I ignored the feeling of trepidation coursing throughout my body and took a cab over to the prison. It was the same one that Stephanie had been in last year. Somehow, it looked completely different. The last time I'd been there, it had seemed all right, but now, it gave me the chills. It was probably knowing that I was in a building full of rapists and murders.

As soon as I got out of the cab, my pulse quickened and I felt my stomach knot up. You're fine, I told myself, taking deep, calming breaths to steady myself. The thought of being in the same room with Harry after what he'd done was terrifying. I hadn't slept at all the night before. I'd tossed and turned all night. It's probably just as well that I hadn't slept, though. I probably would've had nightmares about him. And just when the dreams had finally stopped.

The guard took me through the security routine and what felt like hours later, I was led into the visitation room. They'd asked me beforehand if I'd have preferred to talk with Harry behind plexi-glass, but I figured that he'd be more open to conversation if I was at least civil to him. So, I'd requested that he be restrained and a guard kept close enough to step in should something happened.

I sat down at the only empty table in the crowded room and looked around nervously. Everywhere, people sat talking. Wives visiting their husbands, kids with their fathers or mothers. I felt bad for them. Not everyone was guilty of the crimes they were accused of. How horrible it would be to be stuck in a place like this when you were completely innocent. I shuddered at the thought. I'd hate to be stuck in such a confined place with no privacy, nothing to entertain me….

I heard the click of a metal door closing and looked up. My heart leapt into my throat. Harry was being right toward me, his hands secured in front of him. He grinned. What the fuck was I thinking? This was a terrible idea. Why did it matter why Harry had willingly let himself be charged with rape? He had committed the crime, after all, and now he was being punished for it. As it should be.

I was just about to stand and leave when he dropped down into the seat across the table from me. I swallowed nervously and looked up at the guard. "Everything all right, ma'am?" he asked, watching me closely. I wanted to tell him that things were most certainly not all right, that I was fucking terrified, but I had made the journey here, had gone through all the trouble.

"Yeah," I answered finally, clearing my throat.

"Okay." With a slight nod, he backed away a few paces, close enough to hear what we were saying. Good, I wanted a witness.

I eyed Harry for a minute, trying to think of how to begin. I didn't want to be too blunt, but I didn't want him to think that I pitied him, either. "Why'd you do it?" I blurted, looking down at the stainless steel tabletop.

"Do what?" Harry inquired, arching an eyebrow. "Rape you?"

"No, I know why you did that. I mean, why did you confess to doing it?"

"Oh." He leaned back in his chair, exhaling.

"Well?" I pressed, looking into his dark eyes. He was playing games with me. Same as always. Well, the cat and mouse game was over. "Tell me."

"I…wanted to protect you," he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

"Protect me?" I scoffed. "This coming from the man who raped me."

"Yes, I wanted to protect you. If I'd pleaded not guilty, the investigation would have continued and it would've been brought into the light that you're a prostitute. Your reputation would be ruined and your case would have been lost."

"But that would've been good for you," I pointed out, frowning.

"Don't you see, Belle? I don't give a damn about what happens to me. I love you. And I will do anything I have to to make that clear to you."

"Even if that means spending years in prison?"

"What can I say? It's a break from the real world."

"You're sick," I whispered.

"So I've been told. They did a little psychic evaluation on me in here," he said. "It turns out I've got a touch of sociopath in me."

"Just a touch?"

Not waiting for an answer, I stood. I'd heard enough. He was mad, just like I'd always known but had never wanted to admit. "Thanks," I muttered, starting to walk away.

"Belle, wait!" he pleaded. Something in his voice stopped me. I turned slowly back around, as if not in control of my own body. " I just wanted to say that…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. I never meant for it to end like this. I never wanted to hurt you. I genuinely cared about you. I still do."

I was silent for a moment, absorbing that. Did I really believe that he was sorry for what he'd done? Maybe. Could I forgive him for it? Not likely. But at least he'd said it. "I'm sorry, too," I said, smiling. "I hope you get better."

With that, I turned and walked out, not casting so much as a glance over my shoulder. It was time to put that part of my life behind me for good. Sure, Harry would get out eventually, but even if he did come round trying to see me, I wouldn't have anything to do with him. I couldn't.

I stepped out of the dark confines of the prison and was dazzled by the bright sunlight shining. Ben was waiting for me by his car. "How'd it go?" he asked, starting the engine as I got in.

"Not as bad as I'd feared," I replied, settling in against the seat.

"What did he say?"

"He said….that he's sorry for what he did. That he never meant for it to happen. And that he reason he confessed was because he wanted to protect me."

"What a sick bastard."

"I know." I stared out the window, watching as the prison slowly faded from view.

Ben cleared his throat. "You're a little dressed up for going to see your rapist in prison," he noted, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look me over. I had on a body-hugging purple dress. My hair fell down around my shoulders in waves. My lips were done up in gloss.

"I've got a booking," I confessed, catching his eye.

"Oh." He sniffed. 'First one since…"

"It happened, yeah."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little." I chuckled. "Stephanie says it's like riding a bicycle."

"You never forget."

We both laughed, knowing full well that you never did forget. "I'll be fine," I assured him. "I just need to get going."

"You can practice on me, if you want," Ben teased.

"Oi, you're a married man now!" I protested, laughing.

"Not quite yet. I've still got another week."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, Benjamin, but the only man who's having sex with me today is my client."

"Damn."

* * *

A while later, Ben pulled up outside of the hotel. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm great." I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "But thanks for asking." I opened the door and got out. "See you later."

Ben honked the horn and pulled away. I watched him go, glad that after everything, my life was finally back to normal.

* * *

**Belle**

I made my way down the hotel corridor. I'd been to this hotel many times before and knew my way through it blindfolded. It was a favorite of several of my clients and I had an in with the manager. My heels scuffed along the carpeted floor and I couldn't help but smile. After over a month of inactivity, I was finally back to work. And the phones were buzzing for me. I couldn't fuck them fast enough.

I stopped at room 415. The man on the other side of the door was a complete stranger. Stephanie had told me that his name was Bob and that he sounded young and American. Hot.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and knocked. I felt the familiar butterflies in my stomach and hugged my shawl tighter. God, I'd missed this! The door opened and I was greeted by a very handsome young man. How lovely that my client wasn't a troll. "Belle?" he asked, eying me up and down appreciatively.

"Yeah. Bob?"

"Yeah."

"May I come in?"

"Sure." He held the door open wide. "Come on in."

Stephanie was right all along. I couldn't give up escorting because it's who I am. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm a whore. I love sex and I love money. I'd like to say that this is like Pretty Woman, that one day I'll meet a nice, rich man who'll take me away from all of this. But the reality of the situation is that I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's the best job in the world. This is who I am, a call girl.

Grinning, I followed Bob into the hotel room and with one last look over my shoulder, shut it behind me.


	9. Alternate Ending

**Hannah**

Later that night, I was hosting a celebration party. I'd done my hair and makeup for the first time in over a month and had to admit that I was looking good. I invited all of my friends over: Ben, Stephanie, Liam and Sylvia, Bambi and Byron, and Charlotte. Gwen had buggered off without an explanation, but the show must go on. The wine flowed freely and the music blared. We had a lot to celebrate.

After half a dozen or so glasses of wine I was a little tipsy, but it felt good, freeing. I'd been so tense for so long and I hadn't even realized it. I found Bambi at the buffet table and gave her a hug. "Congratulations, babes," she said, smiling broadly.

"Thanks, Bambi. I still can't believe he confessed to it all like that."

"Nor me. What the hell was that about?"

"I dunno." I shrugged. "I guess, in his own sick and twisted way, he loves me."

"Whatever. The guy is an absolute nutter. Thank God he's behind bars now."

"Yeah." I sipped my wine. "So, when are you due?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Not for a few more months." She rubbed her big belly. "Not that you can tell by looking at me. I look rubbish."

"You look beautiful." I stroked her cheek.

"Thanks." She grinned. "Well, I'd better get back to Byron. I'm so happy for you."

"Me, too." I gave her another squeeze.

I watched Bambi fade away and smiled. All of my friends were living the lives they wanted. But what about me? What did I want? I can't lie and say that I haven't missed escorting. But maybe I got raped for a reason. Maybe it was a way to get out of it all before I'm forced out...

Charlotte passed by, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I was wrong about you, you know," she said.

"You were?"

"Yes. You're not a pathetic, sniveling, idiot. You're a bloody Amazon. Way to go."

"Thanks."

I felt a hand on my elbow and turned. A month ago, it would have given me a heart attack, but now, knowing that I'm safe, it didn't bother me. Charlotte excused herself. "Ben!"

"Hey, Han." He kissed me on the cheek. "You were amazing today."

"Thanks." I felt my cheeks flush.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He nodded toward the kitchen.

"Sure." I took his hand and led the way into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say that I am so proud of you, Han."

"What for?"

"For everything. You've overcome so much and it's amazing."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"I don't know about that, but..."

"No, I mean it." I squeezed his hands. "You are the best thing in my life, Ben. I'm so glad that we were able to work things out."

"Me, too. Now you can have a real life again. That is, if you've decided to pack in escorting."

I chewed my lip. "I don't know, Ben..."

"Well, I just assumed that after everything, you wouldn't want to go back to it..."

"I've thought long and hard about it since that night and..." I trailed off, wishing those bad memories away. "I just can't to do it anymore."

"Really?" His tone was hopeful.

"As much as I once loved it, it's not who I am anymore. All of this has changed me. I want a normal life. I don't want to have to worry about it happening again. And I can't have all that if I'm still an escort."

"Oh, Han!" He threw his arms around me. I melted into his arms. It felt so good to be in Ben's arms again. He pulled back and our eyes met. I felt myself leaning toward him, my lips inches from his. _No! _a voice inside me screamed. _He's with Gwen. You can't! _But the heart wants what the heart wants.

Our lips pressed together and I felt the familiar fireworks. I'd been fighting my feelings for Ben for months now, and I just couldn't do it anymore. He wasn't just my best friend, he was the love of my life, the only person I've ever let in. We belong together.

We broke the kiss and laughed. "Sorry," I said, my lips tingling from the kiss.

"No. It's all right." He chuckled. "I've been waiting so long for that."

"You have?" My heart lifted. "But what about Gwen...?"

"I love her, but, not like I love you, Hannah. It's you. It's always been you. I love you so much."

"Oh, Ben!" I gasped, falling into his arms. I'd never imagined that he'd say those words to me again. Not after what I'd done to him.

"I just have one question."

"Yeah?" I felt my stomach knot up. What could he possibly want to know?

"Will you marry me, Hannah?"

"Oh, my God!" My hand flew to my chest and I felt the hot sting of tears. Tears of joy. Ben knelt down and pulled a black ring box out of his pocket. He opened it and presented me a beautiful, tear-cut diamond ring. It sparkled in the light.

"What do you say?" he pressed, his eyes wide.

"Yes!" I cried. "Yes, Ben. I will marry you."

He slipped the ring onto my finger and I jumped into his arms. He spun me around and I couldn't stop laughing. I was finally getting my happy ending. The one that I'd never even known I'd wanted. I guess fairytales do come true.

* * *

Six Months Later...

The church was crowded as I made my way down the aisle. The Wedding March played and I smiled at everyone as I passed by. All of my friends were there, even Bambi with her new daughter -my God-daughter - she was my Maid of Honor. My father caught my eye and I couldn't help but see a tear of joy sparkling in the inky depths. Jackie sat by my mother, her arms folded across her chest in a huff. Apparently, she still hadn't forgiven me.

We approached the altar and after hugging my dad, I went up the two steps and linked my arm through Ben's. He looked handsome in a black suit, his hair slicked back. I squeezed his hand and waited for the minister to begin.

The music died out and the minister began a speech about the sanctity of marriage and all that. I didn't really care. I just wanted to get married to Ben. We stared into each other's eyes and got lost, grateful to have found each other again despite everything that had happened to us. I'd never pictured in a million years that I'd be getting married -and certainly not to Ben - but now that it was happening, I couldn't imagine my life any other way.

The minister asked us to recite our vows. Ben cleared his throat and took both of my hands in his. "Han, you are the kindest, gentlest, most caring woman I have ever met. You're my best friend, and I'm so glad that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. You bring so much joy into my life. And I promise that I will always take care of you and honor you not only as my best friend, but as my wife."

I grinned and started my vows. "What can I say, Ben? You've been there for me through everything. You're my rock, my support. I don't know how I'd manage without you." My eyes teared up and I felt my throat constrict. "I'm so thankful that you've stuck with me all these years because without you, my life would be nothing. You're the most important person in my life and I am deeply honored to be called your wife. I promise to love you forever."

The minister nodded and began the final part of the ceremony. "Do you, Ben, take this woman, Hannah, to be your wife? To honor and cherish, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Ben replied, slipping the ring onto my finger.

"And do you, Hannah, take this man, Ben, to be yor husband. To honor and to cherish, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." I fit the ring around Ben's finger.

"Then I pronounce you two married in the eyes of God. You may kiss!"

Ben enveloped me in a passionate kiss, dipping me down. I laced my fingers through his hair, never wanting it to end. Our families clapped, throwing confetti and glitter into the air. When the kiss ended, we turned to the crowd. "Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Fraser!" The crowd envoloped into exicted clapping again.

Ben and I made our way down to greet them. Sure, there are things I will miss about my life as an escort. The money, the excitement, the twisted fantasies. But what I have now is so much better than all of that. I've got a man who loves me, a wonderful new career as an author, and most importantly, a baby on the way. The doctor told me it's a boy. Ben and I are going to name it Ashok. And somewhere up above, I know that my old friend Ashok, is watching over me, smiling.

For the first time in my life I'm happy. I'd never thought I'd get here, but I have. And now, after everything, I wouldn't trade it for the world. This is who I am now, a wife and mother. What could be better than that?

* * *

**Author's Note: **This alertnate ending is dedicated to my good friend, Bob Schultz, whose encouragement allowed me to have my cake and eat it, too.


End file.
